I May Be Dead, But I'm Still Pretty
by Mystichawk
Summary: It's been a year since Pitch Black became the Guardian of Courage, but things are not the same. Pitch, afraid of facing the reality that the precious human who saved him from a bleak pit of despair is gone, has fallen back into the pit and is sinking quickly. The only thing that can save him now is the same purple-haired writer. Only, how can she do that if he doesn't remember her?
1. The Very Humorous But Also Bad Beginning

**Hey EVERYBODY, GUESS WHO'S BACK?! **

***Crowds and applause throwing flowers* Thank you, thank you! Yes it's me, Mystichawk. Otherwise known as Abby, the greatest writer of the age. I'm back, and more excited to show you my work than ever!  
**

***Crowd boos***

**OK, OK yes, I'll admit I left you guys on a bit of a cliffie- dodges various fruits and vegetables -OK OK it was a BIG cliffie, but what can you guys expect? It was the ending. But here we are, at another beginning. And I promise you guys, this one is going to be an even BIGGER rollarcoaster of feels, hilarity, family love and drama than ever before. **

**Just to let you guys know there's going to be a lot of light-hearted chapters in this story, but there'll be a lot of serious stuff too. As you've probably guessed, this is going to be the story of Abby's rebirth into the spirit-world and her finding her way, just like the last one was about Pitch. So it's going to get a little gritty, just like the last one did. I'll try to warn you beforehand if something's gonna happen that my wonderful readers might find... uncomfortable.  
**

**Just warning you right now, there probably won't be much about the fanfics in this story, but I'm hoping to make up for that later with lots of lovely family humor.  
**

**Now, for those who have just gotten here and have no idea what this story is, I recommend you read my first story, The Boogeyman Tries To Understand Fanfiction. It's a little long, but without it you won't understand anything that's going on. **

**You done that? Good. **

**Um...let's see...anything else I forgot to mention? **

**Pitch: Nope. I think you're good. **

**Alright then, hope you guys enjoy the first chapter of I May Be Dead, But I'm Still Pretty!**

* * *

From the moment I first opened my eyes, I knew three things:

It was pitch black, my ass was freezing, and I wasn't scared in the least. I was weirded out.

I mean, _you _try just popping up out of nowhere in a little girl's room, having her scream burglar and _THEN _Pedophile- Honestly, _where _were this girl's priorities? -having her mother who can't see you come in and reprimand her daughter for scaring her, then learning that you're a spirit whom no one but kids can see (for now, any way. I plan on finding a way around this rule as soon as possible). Yeah, you'd be pretty weirded out too.

You know, I think it's best that I start from the beginning.

I didn't have a name. At least, none that I remembered. I probably did once- I mean, who lets their kid run around without a name? I mean I don't know, maybe I didn't have one. Maybe I came from a tribe of nameless people. I don't know! Anyway, when I woke up I didn't have any memories- any _personal _ones I should say. I still remembered what right and left was, how to speak and what color the sky was and all that jazz, but when it came to personal memories of family and friends I came up blank. I couldn't remember where I was, who I was, where I was or even when I was!

At least, not until I blinked the blackness from my eyes and saw the typical decor disaster that proclaimed ten-year-old's room.

From what I remember, and it was a rather traumatic experience so forgive me if a few of the details are a little hazy, I was standing smack-dab in the middle of the room. There was a girl with spiky brown hair bent over a desk in front of me, a window to my right with a little seat covered in- I shuddered -_pink _cushions, and a bed smooshed into the corner with perfectly straight pink comforters laying on top.

For some reason I still don't know, I have always hated the color pink. I mean, it's OK when you're using it to support breast cancer or things like that, but the amount of pink and sparkly in this girl's room should have been _illegal!_ I'm talking pink paint on the walls, unicorn pictures on the ceiling, stuffed plushies on the bed, tutus in the slightly ajar closet to my right, crowns and tiaras strewn everywhere, I swear it was like Princess Celestia and Barbie had a baby that threw up in there!

But, then again, who was I to judge? I was wearing nothing but a pair of ragged jeans and a sweater that even a grandmother would think twice about giving their relative for Christmas. My hair, what I could see of it, was short, slightly curly and dirty-blonde, and I didn't seem to be wearing shoes.

"Where the hell am I?" I asked aloud, but I hoped it wasn't loud enough to startle her. Thankfully, it wasn't and I remained standing there, looking around me in utter confusion. Keep in mind, I didn't remember anything of whatever life I had led up until this point. I had no idea what circumstances had put me here, or where I even was. Questions were flying around my head; I didn't know who I was or- and this would've probably been the more correct question -_what _I was. I thought I was a normal kid.

BOY was I ever _wrong!_

But I'll tell you about that later. Back to the story.

I was standing there for a good few minutes before I finally broke out of my self-induced paralysis and decided to ask her if she knew me/where I was/when I was. I didn't know why- at least, not then -why this question, out of all the others I could have asked her, felt like the most important to me at the time. But it was, and I resolved to put it first and foremost. Not having any memories of your past can make you trust your subconscious a lot more than normal, and if mine said to ask _when _I was then I would.

So I took the few steps towards her, but before I could say anything I noticed the pile of crumpled-up papers beside her and saw that she was attempting to write something. I bend over her shoulder to read what I could of the one she was currently doing, and I nodded appraisingly.

"The creatures bursted forth from the ground like subterran leviathans. They resembled the stone giants from myths, but the tops of their heads revolved, changing their benign features to that of warriors as they began to smash the black horses which were swarming around our heroes, cutting them off from their allies and dividing them like sheep without their Shepard." I read aloud, forgetting that she didn't know I was there and then smiling. "Nice. But I think you meant _subterranean_."

I swear, the girl jumped about five feet out of her chair and when she landed she tried to twist herself around, but I heard something pop and she muttered, "Ow!" Then she remembered me and jumped away from the desk, clutching her paper like it was a gun or other weapon that might protect her.

"Who are you?!" She demanded, clearly scared out of her mind. Her wide, metallic brown eyes were even wider and she was even trembling.

My feminine instincts went into overdrive. "Kid, listen, I don't want to hurt you!" I said quickly, sensing how afraid she was. Then, realizing these were the first words I had spoken in my memory- aside from where the hell am I? -I smiled.

Unfortunately, I think I went a little over-board with it and the girl yelled, "MAMA! There's a BURGLAR IN THE HOUSE!"

I swore and crossed the room to put a hand over her mouth. "Shh, listen, I'm not a burglar!" I told her but she ducked away and kept yelling.

"MAMA! HELP! CREEP! Pedophile!"

Now when I heard this I was just insulted. "Hey!" I said, giving her a glare as I ran around the room after her, trying to shut her up so that I could get a word in. "I am not a creep or a pedophile!" Not that I knew what either of those were at the time.

The girl ran around and around, jumping over her bed and scurrying under her desk in an effort to get away from me. For such a big kid, she was surprisingly fast and could fit into some interesting places. I tried to catch her, but each time I got close she yanked herself away from me and just kept yelling.

Eventually, when she backed herself into her closet and shut the door I backed off, leaning against her bed until she stopped screaming. I tried to talk to her through the door and explain that I didn't mean to be here, in her room, but she just ignored me and kept calling for her mama and didn't shut up until mama came in. And _boy _was she mad!

She came through the door like a hurricane, alike to her daughter in almost every way, from the way her hair stuck up in spikes to her hulking size. Not to say the woman was fat. No, she was freaking _muscly_! Her biceps and triceps rippled as she stood in the doorway and clenched her fists, flexing the tendons.

_Like a female Tyson, _I thought. _Then, who the hell is Tyson?_

"MARGARET CRYSTAL!" She hollered, her booming voice making the windowpanes on the girl- who I now knew to be Margaret -'s window shudder. "What is the meaning of this?! It's ten O'clock at night and Dad has night-shift tonight!" She didn't appear to notice me, even though I was standing almost right in front of her.

Margaret poked her head out from the closet and pointed to me. "Mom, there's a stranger in my room! I don't even know how she got in here!"

Her mother turned to me and I expected for her to either toss me out or ask me what the hell I was doing in her daughter's room, but she didn't. She looked at me- or, at least in my general direction, then she turned back to Margaret and said angrily, "Margaret there is no one here! If you think this is some kind of stupid joke-"

Margaret finally came out of the closet. Her hair was even more spiky than before and- I squinted. Were there _sequins _in her hair? "No mom, I swear, it's not a joke! She's there!" She turned to look at me. "Say something!" She ordered and I almost flinched, but I kept my cool and turned to her mother.

"Miss, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to be here in your little girl's room." I said, trying to sound as apologetic as I could. "Heck I don't even know where here is! But I'm really sorry, and if you could just tell me where I am I would be-"

Margaret's mother interrupted me, overriding me as smoothly as if I weren't speaking at all. "No, Margaret. That's enough. I don't want to hear any more about this. There is no one here, your father and I are both tired and we both are going to work tomorrow, alright? I understand that sometimes dreams can seem real, but they're just that. Dreams. There's no one here, and you are safe."

Margret deflated. Her head drooped and it looked like she was about to cry, but I saw not a single tear drop from her face as her mother turned around and left with the parting words, "Please keep it down in the future."

I stood there, unsure of what I should do. Should I apologize, or should I just leave and pretend that this hadn't happened? No, I couldn't do that. Not without at least trying to find out where (and when) I was.

"Margaret," I said after a while. She was still standing in the place her mother had left her, but when I spoke to her she raised her head.

"Why couldn't she see you?" She asked me, almost accusingly. As if I had somehow turned invisible only to her mother and intentionally made her look crazy.

"I don't know," I said truthfully with a shrug of my shoulders. "I can't remember anything."

Her button nose wrinkled in a frown. "What?" She asked, then her eyes narrowed. "Are you messing with me?" She demanded.

I shook my head. "No, I swear I'm not. I don't remember how I got here, or even where here is." I told her, taking a seat in her vacated chair. "I don't remember my name, my age, and I don't know why your mother couldn't see me."

Margaret's frown deepened. "What do you mean, you _can't _remember?" She asked, her voice full of suspicion. "You don't remember how you got into my _room?!_"

I shook my head. "No. Nothing."

She snorted disbelievingly. "Right, like I'm gonna believe that!" She said, staring to edge away from me and back towards her closet door.

_That _made me get a little angry. Now, normally I'm quite a complacent person. I can take people not believing me, but something in the way she said _like I'm gonna believe that _pushed my buttons and I stood up, faster than she could blink and stomped over to her. Her eyes widened in fear and she kept backing up until her back hit the closet door. She stood there, paralyzed like a mouse before a snake, but I didn't pay that any attention. Confusion was making me rash and angry.

"Listen kid," I told her, raising a finger to poke her ample stomach. "I'm just as confused as you are, _if not more so! _I don't know how the he- heck," I amended, remembering that she wasn't even a teen yet. "I don't know how the heck I got here, or even where or when _here _is! So a little information and maybe even some compassion wouldn't be amiss, thank _you!_"

Margaret flinched each time my finger touched her and only when I had finished my rant did I notice just how bad she was shaking.

"Oh gods," I whispered, backing away. The annoyance and anger instantly turning into guilt and fear that sloshed around in my brain like a soupy acid, eating away at my common sense. "I'm sorry kid, I didn't mean to scare you like that."

Margaret was still staring at me and I felt my gut tighten as I saw the fear in her eyes. _How would you feel, _I asked myself. _If you were trapped in a room with someone no one else could see? You would be terrified too!_

"I'll just go," I said, turning towards the door. She was just a kid. She couldn't help me, and I was doing nothing but scaring her, and- for some unknown and incredibly deep-rooted reason, I really didn't want to do that. "I'm sorry." I lifted the latch on the window and slid the shutter up, allowing a cool breeze to blow in and dance with the pink curtains which were tied back with pink ribbons. I inhaled deeply. Smelled like wet earth and diesel fuel. I poked my head out the window and found myself looking down on a quaint little street covered in wet leaves.

A cover of darkness had already settled on the little houses on the other side of the road and the lamps that sprouted up from the pavement like gigantic luminous trees were already starting to glow with a creamy warm light. _Typical neighborhood, _I thought. _No help there. _I looked for a street sign, but Margaret evidently lived in the middle of the street because I couldn't see one.

I sighed, starting to think about where I might go as I began to pull my body out through the window. I had no idea where I was, so maybe a map or landmark would be helpful. _Yes, a map sounds like a good place to start, and I'll go from there._

"Wait!"

I stopped, turning my head back to look at Margaret through the glass. She still looked slightly afraid. "Don't worry kid," I assured her. "I won't bother you any more. You probably won't ever see me again." I made to lift my other leg out of the room but before I could Margaret bounded across the pink plush carpet and grabbed my hand.

"Wait," she said again, and this time I detected a hint of worry in her voice. _Worry? _I glanced up and when our gazes met she let go and took a few steps back. "You'll fall and hurt yourself," she said meekly by way of an explanation.

I laughed. "Kid, look at me." I said, gesturing at my dirty jeans and ripped sweater. "I think I can handle a fall." Then I turned my head again to look down at the street below and suddenly I felt woozy. I clutched the window-frame for support, simply to keep from falling over, blinking and shaking my head to try and rid myself of the strange feeling. _What the hell was going on?_ I wondered. _Am I afraid of heights or something?_

Evidently so, because my head started to swim the longer I looked and after a few more seconds I realized that maybe that _wasn't _the best idea. It was an _awfully _long fall, one that would hurt quite a bit if I landed wrong, and since it appeared the only one who could see me was Margaret I didn't want to take the chance in case I hurt something vital. I couldn't remember anything about going through first aid training.

I glanced back at Margaret. "Maaaybe you're right," I admitted shakily, reaching with my other hand to pull myself back inside. "Not the best idea."

Margaret folded her arms and nodded as if to say_, There, you see? _Then she reached around me and closed the window, latching it securely before turning to look back at me. I was sitting on the bench in front of the window, among all those vomitus pink cushions and trying not to vomit myself as the wooziness began to fade.

After a few minutes when my head had cleared and I felt a little better, I looked up to see Margaret staring at me. She was looking me up and down, like a housemother sizing up a mangy cat that her child had brought home, and so I decided to do the same, giving her a quick once-over and when I saw how much pink she was wearing I almost left right then and there.

_Good gods_, I thought, trying not to cringe. Her outfit was worthy of the cutest, pinkest, girliest award earth had to offer; A shortish nightgown which had a rose-bud pink ribbon around her tummy, separating the darker top and sleeves from the lighter-colored skirt which covered her pink unicorn-patterned leggings. It was the leggings that almost drove me to just jump back out the window and leave without telling her anything.

And then I saw the boots.

I don't know what prompted me to look at them, but I was sure glad I did. They were thick, black, appeared to be made from leather and- my heart almost skipped a beat! -steel-toed!

_FINALLY! _I thought happily. _Something not barf-worthy pink!_

When she noticed me looking she raised an eyebrow and asked, "Why are you staring at my shoes?" As if it were somehow unrespectable to stare at another person's shoes.

I looked up at her with a smile. "Because they are the only thing in here that isn't blinding me," I replied with as straight a face as I could keep.

She let out a single snort which sounded like a mixture of pigs snorting and laughter, then recovered herself. She set her face in one of those serious, but curious looks that only children are able to pull off as she stared at my face and hair critically. "You don't look homeless," she told me, her eyes lingering on my sweater.

I gave her a deadpan look. "I'm not wearing any shoes." I replied flatly.

She shrugged. "I've seen homeless people with shoes before," she said dismissively. Then added, "And anyway, your hair is too bright for you to be homeless."

I frowned, then reached up to pull down a dirty-golden lock of hair and eyed it. "You call this bright?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow.

She shook her head and, without asking permission whatsoever, reached forward and pulled another chunk from the back of my hair forward until I could see it. "See?" She said proudly, holding the piece of dirty hair under my nose. "It's bright green!"

I blinked, staring at the lock of hair before taking it in my own hands and examining it closely. There were flecks of blonde, dirt, grease and even a little bit of grey stuff that I thought was ash from a fire, and underneath it all, mixed in so well that at first I barely noticed it, was a smattering of deep emerald.

I raised my eyebrows. "What on earth...?" I breathed, staring at the green hair as if it might attack me.

"I think it looks kinda of cool," Margaret offered with a small smile, attempting to mend the bridge a little.

I glanced at her. "Is the rest of my hair like this?"

She nodded. Then her face brightened a little as she turned around and ran over to her desk, picking up a small hand-mirror before running back over to me and presenting it to me. "Here," she said. "See for yourself."

I took the mirror gingerly in my hands, but didn't look into it. Now, looking back on it, I think I was afraid of what I might see. Would it be a homeless child who had lost their memory because they had never had one to begin with, or would I be a runaway in dirty jeans and a stolen sweater, running from an abusive home?

I shuddered. Maybe it was better for me to not know. I set the mirror down on the cushions beside me and turned to look back at Margaret. "So, where are we kid?" I asked, wanting to put that experience out of my mind. for now, at any rate.

Margaret looked at the mirror, then back at me but thankfully, she didn't ask any questions. "Well," she said, looking at her feet. "The city I live in is called Burgess. That's where my house, here, is."

I nodded, committing the name to memory for when I did leave in case I needed to get back. "Burgess. Sounds nice. What state are we in?"

"Pennsylvania," she volunteered immediately.

I took a moment to mull that over. Pennsylvania. That was...on the west coast? No, no the _east _coast. Right. Was it near New York?

"It's just a little town near the boarder," Margaret added after a few moments of silence. "There aren't too many people here. Just my friends and their families."

"And...I'm not one of them?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry."

I sighed. "That's OK kid," I told her, standing up but doing it slowly so that I didn't get another headrush. I made for the door, my head buzzing with hundreds of questions and not a single answer among them. _Burgess. Doesn't sound familiar. _She said that it was near the boarder, so maybe I lived on the other side of it in whatever state was next and just...

_Just what? Just wandered here from a whole state away, into some poor kid's bedroom that you've never met before? No, I don't think so._

I rolled my eyes. _Then how did I get here? _I asked the little voice that was being so annoying in the back of my head. _I didn't just pop up here like daisy. _Then I stopped. _Hell I don't know, maybe I did!_

"Where are you going?"

I pulled out of my thoughts with a jerk, just in time to see Margaret standing in front of the door with her arms crossed and a frown on her face.

I stopped. "I'm leaving." I told her, thinking, _oh great. Now the kid is getting attached to me. _"I've got to find out who I am and how I got here, and I can't do it just standing around here."

She gave me that look again- that _infuriating _look that all kids give you when they think they're in the right but they don't know jack shit. "You really think you're going to find out if you go out _there?_" She asked me skeptically, gesturing to the door as if it were the stupidest idea in the world.

I shrugged. "Well, it's as good a place as any." I replied, taking a step forward but she continued to block me. _What the hell is wrong with her? _I wondered, backing up a little so that I didn't bump into her. _A minute ago she couldn't get me out of here fast enough!_

"Where will you go?" Margaret demanded, speaking to me as if _I_ were the child and not her. She seemed afraid, almost desperate for me to not leave. What a three-sixty. "How will you eat? I mean it's not like this town has muggings and shootings every day but look at you!" She broke off to look me up and down again. "You don't look like you could last a _night _out on the streets!"

I rolled my eyes again, taking another step. "Get out of my way kid, this isn't any of your business." I told her, reaching out a hand to move her aside but she ducked it and popped back up again, her face set in a determined frown.

"No!" She told me, planting her feet firmly on the plush carpet and folding her arms defiantly. "I'm not moving, and it _is _my business." I opened my mouth to argue, but she over-rode me. "You showed up in my room, telling me that you can't remember who you are or how you got here, and then when my mom comes in she can't see you at all! No," she repeated. "I don't want you to leave, and not just because you could get in trouble." She paused, looking me up and down again but this time it was like she was sizing up a painting, looking at all my little faults and finishes and the gaze was so direct that I felt a little uncomfortable.

"Then why don't you want me to leave?" I asked, trying not to sound like a defiant child which was exactly what I did sound like.

Her gaze lifted to my face again. Those piercing metallic brown eyes were staring into my green ones so intensely that I wished I could look away, but I couldn't. Something about the honesty and innocence in those eyes held me fast, like quicksand that was about to swallow me whole. Then she opened her mouth, and said the last thing I expected to come from her. "You've got a story."

I blinked. "What?"

"You've got a story." She repeated. She was smiling now as she took a step forward, speaking as she did so. "You might not remember it, but if writing has taught me anything it's that everybody has a story." She stopped a few inches in front of me, staring up at my face. "I want to find out yours," Margaret told me seriously. Then the adult-like mask was cracked by a more childish smile. "And I can't do that if you go running off, now can I?"

Her smile was infectious and I had to crack one of my own. _Such a good kid... _but the levity soon faded and I was forced back to the problem at hand. Should I stay or should I go?

Aaand then that annoying voice in the back of my head started singing _should I stay or should I go now _and completely dissolving any remaining sense of seriousness that I had accumulated.

_Good grief, _I thought. _Am I an escaped mental patient or something?_

It wouldn't be too far out of the realm or possibilities.

"No," I admitted in answer to her question. "I guess you can't." I sighed. Well, it wasn't like I had any real plan once I left here anyway. So I might as well stick around. For the night, at least. In the morning I could sneak out the window- _no, the stairs. _I reminded myself. _Nooo more windows for you missy._ -and see if anyone else could see me and go from there. But for now...

"Alright," I finally conceded, lifting my arms up in defeat. "Alright Margaret, you win. I'll stay."

Margaret let out a squeal of joy and ran at me with both arms open for a hug. Before I had a chance to react I felt a hundred and eighty pounds of fluffy pre-teen slam into me, knocking me back at least three steps and knocking the wind right out of me. "Yes!" She squealed, squeezing my stomach with apparent glee. "Thank you thank you thank you!"

As soon as she hit my my eyes bugged out and I'm sure I looked utterly ridiculous, but I was too busy gasping for breath to care. It was like being hit by a powderpuff line-backer! "Good gods Margaret," I half moaned, half gasped as I tried in vain to pry her off me. "I think you need to lay off the cookies after school!"

Margaret laughed as she pulled away from me, grinning like the malignant little troll I had suspected she was underneath all that cutesy pink exterior. "My friends call me Cupcake." She replied, holding out a chubby hand, presumably for me to shake.

I shook it. "Cupcake." I repeated, thinking, _Could you have picked a name __**any **__girlier?_ "Of course they do."

Her smile instantly sank into a frown. "And what's wrong with Cupcake?" She demanded, as if I had severely insulted her.

I instantly backtracked. "Oh nothing, nothing nothing at all Marg- I mean Cupcake. It's a lovely name and I'm sure the other children like it too-" Why oh why couldn't I stop babbling?! What was it about this girl that turned me from an imposing adult- or close enough anyway, to a babbling child?

Thankfully, she had the decency to cut me off there. "I'm kidding," she told me, patting my arm in reassurance. "I'm kidding. It's OK. I know it's a girly nick-name, and I like it." She was smiling. I was not.

I was recovering from a heart attack. "Good grief kid," I lifted my hand to my heart which was beating like crazy. "Don't do that to me! You nearly gave me a coronary!"

She chuckled, regaining that malignant troll-expression I had come to expect from her. "Sorry." She apologized but I doubted that she meant it. "Just wanted a little revenge for that bit earlier."

My eyes snapped open and I opened my mouth in outrage. _You little- _I was ready to rip her a new one for the kind of mind-manipulation she had pulled, but before I could get a single word out she clapped me on the arm again.

"Well, if you're going to stay here then the first thing we need to do is get you cleaned up!" She said happily, taking my arm and leading me over to the door, babbling all the way. "The shower is downstairs, I'll show you how to work it and I'll steal some of my big sister's clothes for you. Do you know your sizes?"

_What? _Shower? _What's a shower? _My head was spinning again. Half of me was paying attention to Cupcake, trying to understand what she was saying as she spoke a mile a minute, half of me was trying to follow how she was moving so that I could place my feet correctly and not trip and fall flat on my face, and yet another half of me- _aren't there only two halfs in a whole? _-was so _utterly tired _from all this that I could've fallen over right then and there into her carpet. The only thing keeping me up was Cupcake herself.

"Cupcake," I tried to stop her flow of words but she was too excited. _Good grief, _I thought as she continued to prattle away. _This kid is gonna explode!_

"It's OK if you don't know, I think you should be close enough. She might even be bigger than you are! Is there a kind of shampoo you prefer? We've got mango-rose Aveeno, spearmint Axe, and I think we've got some bubblegum Scooby Doo body wash if you want. I like spearmint. It reminds me of winter."

I sighed. "Whatever you've got is OK with me Cupcake," I told her, thinking that a whole tub of bodywash wouldn't be enough to get rid of all this dirt and gunk.

When we got to the door she briefly let go of my arm just long enough for her to twist the knob and push it open. Then she wound her hand back around my arm and pulled me forward into the hallway.

The instant my foot touched the hard-wood floor shooting knives of pain bit into me, snaking up my leg and a sharp cry of unbidden pain escaped my lips. I staggered back, yanking Cupcake back inside her room and only her hand around my arm kept my from falling over. The pain was unbelievable, like a hedgehog was burrowing into my foot with each step backwards. The pain lessened when my feet touched carpet again but it was still there none the less.

"What's wrong?" Cupcake asked, looking from my face to my feet in worry.

I gritted my teeth, trying to keep the scream of agony down in my throat that was begging so hard to be let loose so that I wouldn't scare her. "_Something...n...feet._" I grunted, shutting my eyes against the pain. Just what I needed, what with my head still spinning.

Cupcake probably didn't understand what I was saying, but in the next few seconds when the pain grew worse and I could no longer stand on the foot, she realized what was wrong. "Here," She said, quickly taking ahold of my arms and trying to ease me down on the ground.

Once my behind felt fluffy carpet beneath it I pulled my arm away from Cupcake and used it to brace myself against the ground, to keep from falling over. Cupcake nodded, then scuttled around to inspect my feet. Her eyes widened as they alighted on my bare feet. I groaned. _That can't be good._

"What is it?" I asked her, bracing myself for whatever reply she was going to give, though I already knew it had to be bad.

She glanced up at me. "It's...glass."

I frowned. "Glass?" I repeated, momentarily distracted from the pain. How the hell had I gotten glass in my foot?!

She nodded. "Yes, lots. Big pieces." She raised her hand and indicated with two fingers. "About this wide."

I winced. _Gods above, why didn't I feel them before if they're that large?_ I wondered, then I shook my head. Never mind that now. _Now I've got to figure out what to do about the bloody big shards of glass sticking out of my feet!_

"Do...you want me to try and take them out?" Cupcake asked hesitantly, looking none too happy about the task but aware that it might come to that. "I'm no surgeon, but I'm sure I can manage."

I thought about it. I couldn't see the glass myself, but I didn't doubt she was telling the truth. And the pain was getting worse. "Fine," I replied flatly.

She still looked hesitant. "Are you sure?" She went to ask but before she could get to the second word I interrupted her firmly. "Just _do it_. It'll have to be done eventually, and the sooner the better I guess."

Cupcake shrugged. "Alright." She stood. "I've got to go grab some stuff from the bathroom first though. Towels for the blood, and tweezers for the smaller pieces. Some of the pieces are embedded in there really deep."

I nodded. "Alright, just hurry please." I tried not to let the pain show through in my voice but she appeared to hear it any way. She nodded, then hurried out the door which swung languidly back and forth, back and forth on squeaky hinges.

I waited for a few minutes, contemplating my situation to try and ignore the needle-like pain digging into my feet. It wasn't just the foot that had touched the wood now, but my other foot as well. Phantom pain flew up and down my legs, which was almost as painful as the real thing, except the phantom pain didn't alleviate when I shifted my ankles.

"Glass," I repeated quietly to myself, staring at my dirty toes and trying not to wiggle them out of habit. "Of all the things to get stuck in my foot, _glass_." It was rather strange, and told me little to nothing new about myself. Except for the fact that I had probably gotten into quite a bit of trouble before my memory-loss. As if the flakes of ash in my hair hadn't already told me that.

I lifted my hand to push some of the blonde hair out of my eyes. It had been hanging there for at least ten minutes and was surprisingly irritating to me, and so I tucked it behind my left ear. A minute later, the hair fell back again. I glared cross-eyed at it. Something about the hair bothered me. I didn't know what. Maybe it was the dirt and sweat, maybe it was the green dye which I could see no sign of now. But something was nagging at me, telling me that this wasn't like me, but I dismissed it. There would be plenty of time after I got this damn glass out of my foot and cleaned myself up to ponder the mysteries of my hair.

About five minutes later, Cupcake returned. Her arms were full of medical supplies, bottles, tweezers, bandage wrappings and Band-Aids, all resting on top a stack of fluffy dark towels which she set down beside my feet. She knelt in front of me with a smile. "I brought alcohol and painkillers," she told me, gesturing to the three bottles resting on their sides on the towel. "In case it hurts too much and ends up being septic."

I nodded. "Very smart. Thank you Margaret."

"Cupcake," she corrected without blinking, picking up one fo the towels and lifting my feet with one hand, inciting a wince from me as she slid the towel beneath them. Then she picked up the tweezers. "I don't know much about medicines," she told me seriously. "Are you sure you want me to do it?"

I nodded. "I can't see anything." I told her. "So it's got to be you."

She nodded and raised the tweezers, ready to begin. "This is going to hurt," she warned. Then she started reached down and pulled at the first piece of glass.

The scream that leaped from my mouth almost shattered the windows behind us and made Cupcake jump like a scared mouse which, in turn made her yank at the piece of glass again and this time the force was enough to yank the shard all the way out, which just made me scream again.

"AAAAARGH!"

"I'm sorry!" Cupcake yelped, flinching back like I had slapped her. "I'm so so sorry!"

I gritted my teeth, my fingers clenched into tight fists against the utter agony that was wrenching through my body. "_Mmm, mmm! _S'alright," I managed to growl through the whimpers of pain. "Just ke- keep going."

Cupcake looked down at the tweezers in her hand, her eyes wide. She looked terrified and I forced myself to calm down through quick, short breaths. I didn't want to terrify her any more than she already was.

"Cupcake." My voice was low, as low as I could make it without making me cough, and I spoke slowly so that she could understand me. "It's OK. Really, just keep going. It doesn't hurt all that much anymore-" Lie. "-and you just surprised me the first time. That's why I screamed." The smile I forced onto my face probably looked more like a grimace, but she appeared to believe me. "I bet that was the biggest one, right?" I asked her, half hoping I was right.

She glanced at the shard of glass, which was just as gnarly as I had imagined it. The width was at least half an inch thick and it was positively covered in my blood, along with dirt and flecks of grey ash. Then she looked up at me and shook her head. "No."

I tried not to cringe. I was afraid of that. "Just keeping going," I told her, steeling myself for another piece of glass being yanked out of my foot. I wasn't dissapointed, and a few seconds later I was cursing like a sailor.

"Ack! Dammit all to Vell and back!"

"I'm sorry!"

Another piece out.

"_Gorlog's claws and nostrils- _OW!"

"I'm _sorry!_"

"Ugh. Just keep going!"

After the first six or seven pieces, Cupcake appeared tired of my cursing beause when she yanked the next one out and I hissed something about _barking spiders, _she looked up at me with an unimpressed look. "Oh knock it off," she told me flatly.

I raised an eyebrow, though the pain was still racing up my body. "_Excuse me? _Who's the one who's getting pieces of glass yanked out of her feet?!"

She nodded. "Yes, I know, and who's the one yanking those pieces of glass out for you? And I'm not about to do it while being sworn at in Nordic, so please keep your swearing to yourself."

I resisted the urge to growl at her, though in all honesty this little flare of defiance gave me hope for myself and my situation. She wasn't just a scared little mouse or a girly-girl after all, she was a smart girl who was able to adapt and didn't care two ticks about speaking her mind or not. And, out of respect for her, I chose to keep my swearing silent and in my head, which actually allowed me to express myself fully in my cursing and not use the filter which, believe it or not I had been using because there was a child present.

Twenty minutes later, Cupcake pulled the last bit of glass, a small fragment no bigger than my pinky-fingernail which she set down among the other pieces of glass on the corner of the other towel she had brought, and smiled at me. "There." She said happily. "That's the last one!"

But I didn't feel like celebrating. At all.

I felt like rolling over and vomiting- or at the very least hitting something very hard, but I held it. My eyes were watering like mad, making the world swim worse than before and I could barely keep myself upright. But I hid as much of this as I could from Cupcake behind a completely fake smile. "Thank you," I told her gratefully. And I was grateful. It would be much easier to get about with a cathedral's worth of glass shards out of my foot. However, the pain was still there.

She nodded and picked up the larger of the three bottles, a clear plastic one that was clearly labeled ethyl alcohol. I cringed, knowing what was about to happen and dreading it.

"I don't have to do this," Cupcake said quickly. "I can just wrap it like this-"

"No," I said tiredly. I was going to sleep for a month after this. "No, it'll be better if you use the alcohol. I don't want to die of infection." Then I smiled. "Though with you as my doctor I'm sure that's impossible."

Cupcake snorted. "Ha! Yeah, right. I'm a regular Margaret Hoolaghan." She frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe that's where my mom got my name from."

I shrugged, not knowing who Margaret Hoolaghan was and honestly not caring.

Margaret picked up the bottle, popped the top and sloshed some out on a smaller towel which she then rubbed over my aching feet. I had thought beforehand that the pain of having shards of glass yanked from my feet was the worst pain I would ever have to go through. I was wrong. This, right here, was worse. My eyes began to water almost the instant the alcohol touched my cuts and I had to clamp my teeth tightly over my lower lip to keep the curses that so badly wanted to escape my mouth in my throat.

_Damn, damn double damn!_

"It's OK," Cupcake told me gently, using her free hand to pat mine as she used the other to rub the towel harder into my right foot and then my left. "Almost done. Just got to get the last bit of blood off, then I can wrap it."

I didn't answer. The aching was beginning to cease as she wiped more and more dirt, muck and blood from my feet. They would probably be clean as whistles by the time she was done, at least on the bottom.

Cupcake took a few of the Band-Aids scattered on the floor beside her and slipped them over the wider cuts. Then, after making sure they were secure, she began wrapping my feet with the bandages. I watched her work carefully, noticing the professionalism and caution with which she wrapped them. _Apparently she isn't as hopeless a nurse as she pretends, _I thought.

"You're quite handy with those wrappings," I commented as she tucked the end of the wrapping among the bands on my left foot and leaned back, surveying her work with a critical eye.

She smiled at me, shrugging. "I've read enough about heroes that get hurt to make do." She replied. "Plus my sister is a boxer. She gets beat up _a lot _and taught me how to wrap a wound."

I nodded. Interesting. "Give us a hand up will you?"

Cupcake helped me to my feet with stung slightly when I put pressure on them, but it didn't hurt too much and I hesitantly took a step out into the hallway.

"Better?" Cupcake asked, watching my wrapped feet carefully for signs of poor workmanship. She was dedicated, if anything.

I nodded. "Loads, thanks kid."

Cupcake beamed, very pleased with herself for the good deed she had done. I tousled her hair, then used her as a crutch as we hobbled down the short flight of stairs and across the hall. It was a good thing her parents were asleep, because it would've been an odd sight to see to be sure; Cupcake with her shoulders hunched and her arm resting on my back, keeping me up.

"Here we are," Cupcake told me, pushing open the turquoise-colored door and revealing a fairly large bathroom with a toilet, a tub with a dark blue screen drawn over it, a sink, and several cupboards resting on the walls which were the same color as the door. "All the stuff's in the cupboard. You can use whatever you want, just remember to lock the door, in case my parents need to get up and use it before you're done." She ducked out form under my arm but held onto my hand just long enough for me to place it firmly on the wall to keep myself from falling.

I raised an eyebrow. "But, if one of them comes knocking, what makes you think locking the door will do any good? They can't see or hear me."

Cupcake frowned. She had evidently not thought of this. "Hmm... Well, if that happens then at least they won't be able to see you." She chuckled. "They'll probably wonder why the shower is on though."

I smirked. "Well, if all else fails then at least I can pick something up and throw it at them, pretending I'm a ghost."

Cupcake laughed. "Oh man if only I was invisible too!" She chuckled evilly, rubbing her hands together like a malignant troll. "Then I could see the look on my dad's face. Oooh, _priceless!_"

I laughed out loud and clapped her on the shoulder. "Cupcake," I told her grandly. "In spite of the pink and your nick-name, I think that we are going to get along just fine."

She left me then, and in spite of our joking I decided to lock the door. Just in case.

The shower was, thankfully, easy to work with. All I had to do was pull the knob and twist it to the perfect temperature. The water squirted out in thick, wide-spread streams that instantly made me let out an _ooh_ of pleasure, as if I hadn't felt the soft kiss of hot water in years. The dirt practically _melted _off of me like a second skin. I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed with the borrowed sponge Cupcake had pointed out before leaving, taking off layer after layer of dirt, filth and probably quite a bit of skin too.

"Good grief," I muttered when I saw how different my hand looked after a good soaking. "They're so pruney I look like grandma Sophie!" Then I thought, _who's grandma Sophie? _All these strange names in my head, Harry, Sophie, Tyson, and those curses. Where had they all come from? I resolved to ask Cupcake after I got out. She might know.

I began washing my hair then. Cupcake had said that all the shampoos were available, as long as I didn't use too much. But I didn't like the scent of most of them, so I chose the small bottle labeled Herbal Essences: Color Me Happy. It said it was for colored hair, so I figured it might do well for my green. I squirted a generous portion onto my hands, then started scrubbing at the water flowed away.

It took a total of three rounds of scrubbing, but eventually I managed to get all or nearly all of the gunk out of my thick, messy hair and it hung down my back like a wet, stringy curtain, at least twice as long as it had been dirty. I ran my fingers through it, slightly irritated with how easily the digits got swallowed up by the semi-clean hair, but then I remembered I had just washed it and it was bound to be a bit messy until I got a chance to run a brush through it.

Once I had checked myself to make sure I was thoroughly clean, I switched off the water and pulled the curtain aside, staring at my filthy clothes in utter disgust. There was no way I was going to put those dirty slops on _my _body. I looked around for some other clothes that might've been left behind that weren't _quite _so dirty, but there were none. Nothing but a towel hanging on the back of the door, which I knew wouldn't be enough.

Suddenly I heard a knocking. I leaped to cover myself with the curtain before remembering the door was locked. The knocking was soft and quiet, as if someone was trying not to disturb me.

"Hey? You done in there?"

I let out a sigh of relief. It was only Cupcake, checking up on me. "I'm right here," I called out to her. "But I don't have any clean clothes to put on."

I heard her laugh from behind the door. "Why do you think I'm here?" The knob jiggled. "Now let me in, before someone sees me. I've got clean towels and clothes."

Without hesitation I crossed the room and reached for the lock. Then I remembered I was completely nude and grabbed the towel hanging on the back of the door. After tying it around myself securely, I turned the lock and opened the door.

Cupcake was standing there impatiently, tapping her foot and glancing over her shoulder, antsy as a box of crickets. When I opened the door she whirled back to look at me, glanced me up and down, then turned back around towards the stairs and beckoned for me to follow. "We can't risk my parents seeing you, in case you were wondering why we were going back to my room." She whispered when I opened my mouth to ask her just that question.

I hmmphed and followed her, dripping wet and suddenly very _very _cold, up the stairs and back to her room. A cold wind from an open window somewhere in the house whisked up the stairs and flew up the back of my towel. As you can imagine, this gave me quite a start. Honestly the only thing I can equate it to is a ghost trying to cop a feel. And if it was then I was going to kick some serious ghoulio butt!

As soon as I got some clothes on.

Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long, as we reached her room a few seconds later. Cupcake let me go in first, holding out the bundle of clothes for me to take as I passed her.

"Here," she said, pushing them into my arms. "I'll wait outside." She went to shut the door and I didn't stop her. It felt good to have a little privacy.

I quickly changed into the clothes she had given me; a pair of grey sweatpants and a typical grey long-sleeved shirt. I wiggled with joy as the warm material slid over my skin, instantly making the gooseflesh from my little wind-towel experience dissapear and my body start to warm. I looked down at myself, a small smile on my face. It wasn't really my taste in color, but it would have to do.

A few minutes later I opened the door and Cupcake stepped back inside. I beamed at her. "Well? What do you think?" I asked, gesturing down at myself.

She looked at me from neck to toe approvingly, but when she looked back at my face and opened her mouth to speak, her expression shifted from pride to surprise and her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

I frowned. "What's wrong?" I asked her, wondering if I had put the shirt on backwards. It was tagless, so I had had a little trouble putting it on, but I doubted she would have a look like _that _on her face for a backwards shirt.

Cupcake didn't answer me. Instead she ran over to me and picked up pieces of my wet hair. "What the heck did you use?!" She demanded, picking the wet strands up one by one and looking closely at them.

I jerked my head away, pulling the strands out of her fingertips, wondering if she had gone mad. "What in Vallar are you talking about?" I demanded, turning around to face her but before I could stop her she had followed me.

"Your hair!" She told me, yanking a chunk of wet strands up to that I could see it. "It's turned purple!"

I blinked, utterly thrown. "Purple?" I took the strand from Cupcake's fingers and looked at it carefully. Instead of being green or blonde, this piece of hair was a bright shade of violet, like the lavender herb that grew in the fields of Italy. I stared, dumbstruck by the new color. "How...on..." But my voice tailed away. Instead of feeling discomfort or confusion upon seeing this new color, as I had upon seeing my blonde and green hair, this strange, beautiful color seemed to...fit.

I frowned. _Fit? _What on earth did that mean? I turned the strand of wet hair over and over in my fingers, inspecting it closely and as I did so, warm sensations began to radiate through me. As if the color was an old, familiar friend. It was hard to describe. Almost as if...

"As if it's a part of me," I whispered, dropping the hair and turning to Cupcake. "Can I have that mirror?"

Cupcake, who was still staring at my hair, jumped when my voice rang out in the silence. "What? Oh, right." She scrambled over to the window-seat where I had left the mirror, snatched it up and then ran back to me, clutching it to her chest.

I snatched the mirror from her hands and brought it up to my face, ignoring the hesitance I had felt before. A pale-faced teenager stared back at me. Her cheeks were a ruddy pink, clogged pores making her nose look like a sieve and small brown moles scattered across her forehead and cheeks, but these were camouflaged almost entirely by jagged cuts and scars that crisscrossed each other. I tilted my head down a little in order to see my hair and there is was, looking as natural as the green had. Bright, vibrant purple hair plastered over my scalp and hanging down the sides of my face in tangles strings.

"I can't wait to see what it looks like dry!"

Cupcake's voice broke me out of my stupor and I turned slowly to stare at her. She had that happy smile on her face again and her arms were folded contentedly, as if my astonishment was exactly what she had been expecting. "What?"

Her smile widened a little. "If that's what it looks like wet," she explained, still eying my hair. "Then I'm sure it must look positively _gorgeous _when it's dry."

I frowned, glancing back at the few strands hanging over my shoulder. "I guess," I offered halfheartedly. As calm and relaxed at the new color made me feel, I was still a little unsure about it. How had it gotten this shade, when just a half an hour earlier I had seen it blonde and spattered with emerald? Had it been the shampoo I had used? Was the term 'color me happy' meant to tell the user that it actually _gave _color to hair, not enhanced it?

I stopped. Now _that _was just plain ridiculous. The shampoo had been clear and smelled of roses, nothing to do with the color purple.

Cupcake ignored my hesitance and walked over to her desk, picking up a brush and offering it to me. "Do you want to brush it?"

I looked at the brush. It was pink and sparkly, typical. "Maybe later," I told her, pushing the brush away. "For now, I'm kind of tired. Is it OK if I rest here until morning?"

Cupcake nodded emphatically. "Of course, of course! Like I said, you're welcome here until we find out who you are." She jumped into action, tossing the brush back onto her desk and rushing to her closet. She started pulling out blankets and tucking them under her arm, at least three, then she turned back to me and walked over until she was standing before the window seat. "Is right here OK?" She called over her shoulder, setting the blankets down ant shaking the first one out. "I can get the cot out if you need it."

I followed her over to the window. the seat was wide enough for me to lay down comfortably, but those pillows would be annoying. I picked two of them up. "Can we relocate the pillows?" I asked, trying not to sound rude.

But she just nodded happily. "Sure! I don't like sleeping with them myself. Too scratchy." And so saying she picked up the other pillows and chucked them across the room, towards the closet. I looked askance as the pillows, then I shrugged and chucked them at the closet. They hit the door with a muffled thump and landed in a small pile. "Is this enough for you?" She asked, holding out one of the blankets.

I turned around to look at her, reaching out to run my fingers over the material. It was soft as silk and smooth, like touching glass. But it was malleable and hung limply from Cupcake's hands. "Perfect." I told her, taking the blanket and wrapping it around myself like a towel. I laid down on the cushioned bench and Cupcake handed the other black blanket, this one thicker and less smooth, to me which I pulled over myself. The room was heated, but after that wind chill I still felt a little cold.

"Thank you Cupcake," I told her once I had adjusted myself to a comfortable position. "I hope you know how much I appreciate this."

Cupcake, who had turned towards her own bed with the intention of getting in it and going to sleep, paused and turned back to me. She was smiling again, but this time it wasn't proud, or smug. It was that strange, curious smile that only young children are able to pull off. Happy and carefree. "It's OK," she said, smiling. "You would've done the same for me. And anyway, it's not like I could just kick you out into the cold. Not without feeling like a miserable excuse for a human being, that is."

I nodded my thanks again, though we both knew that not many children would be this trusting. And _none _of them would be this kind. "All the same, thank you."

She nodded in return, smiling as she pulled back the comforters and slid into her bed after kicking off her shoes. "Alright," she said, switching off the light. "Goodnight..." There was a small pause. "You know, we've got to figure out a name for you until we find out who you really are."

I shrugged as the room grew black. I was too tired to respond, though it appeared I might not be able to get to sleep any time soon, thanks to the moonlight flooding in through the uncovered window.

"Oh, and if you don't want the window open you can shut it if you want." Cupcake's voice added out of the darkness, as if reading my mind. "I just like having the Man in the Moon watching over me at night."

I raised an eyebrow. "The Man in the Moon?"

"Yes. He's the grand spirit who watches over all the others. I'll tell you about them tomorrow. Goodnight."

I shrugged again, turning over until I could see the moon hanging in the velvety sky among the pin-prick stars glittering like diamonds. I didn't like the light much, but I was too sleepy to care. The words _Man in the Moon _kept rolling around in my mind. They felt familiar, but evidently they had something to do with my personal memories because I couldn't figure out what it was, and eventually I just gave up. I would have to ask Cupcake about it tomorrow. "Goodnight."

I lay there quietly for a long time, watching the glowing blue-white orb hanging there silently in the sky as time slowly passed by, shining down on me like a single benevolent eye and as I laid there, an over-whelming sense of calm washed over me. My eyes started to droop. The aching in my muscles instantly vanished, and as I slowly drifted off into the gentle arms of the world of sleep I wondered if there really _was _someone sitting up there in the sky, watching over me.

There was. I just didn't know it yet.


	2. The Truest Believer & The Biggest Coward

**Hey all! I'm back, and better than ever! This is the second official chapter of the sequel to the Boogeyman, and I'm pleased to say that it reveals quite a lot about what's been happening to our favorite neighborhood Boogeyman. However, it's not been the nicest year for him and there will be a few low points in this chapter. But nothing past self-pity and a little bit of self destruction. But it's not that bad, I promise.**

**Warning: This chapter contains tear-jerker moments.**

**I would like to thank all my old friends for continuing to review because it means a lot to me, and also the newer reviewers. I'm so glad to have my work getting out there and being read by new people. It's an amazing feeling to hear people complimenting my work and I hope that it's helped a lot of other people with their writing.  
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**Alright, that's all for me. Hope you guys enjoy this extremely long chapter. See you next weekend!**

* * *

Three months later...

There are very few places at the North Pole that are truly ever silent. It was, after all, a workshop which tend to be eternally punctuated by the whirr of great hulking machinery, the grumble of yetish workers as they lumbered back and forth across the room, running diagrams and cookies to one another, the crackle of assembly line belts as they rolled out dozens of brand new toys in a few short minutes, ready and waiting to be packaged and wrapped or at the very least the gentle tick tick tick of a hammer on ice as one of the yetis modeled yet another design for a new toy.

That being said, if you knew the place well enough there were a few isolated nooks and crannies that guaranteed privacy and silence. The training rooms beneath the Pole, for example. Those were always a nice place to relax, catch a few hours of saber-practice on your own or a bit of boxing. Then there was the ice-caverns that connected to the hostile tundra outside, half of which North used as ice supplies for his Yetis and the other half of which he had converted into a bedroom for Jack. Still, not the nicest of environments to relax in, even if it were quiet.

And then there were the areas _above _the workshop. The warmer, much more inviting rooms that were barely ever used and stretched for miles and miles along the hallways of the upper floors.

Some of the Guardians suspected that North had built them in anticipation of the many homeless children he believed he could help with his magic. The others thought it was rooms for the elves and sure enough, if you looked close enough you could find little holes in the walls, behind the beds or dressers that, if explored, led all around the Pole in an inter-connected maze of tunnels, much like Bunny's Warren.

But, in reality, the rooms- most of them anyway, were fated to just sit there and gather dust without anyone ever coming in and sleeping in their warm, soft beds or reading their books or using their wardrobes to store their clothes. They were just there for posterity's sake, and in case the toy storerooms got a little too crowded. Though, once in a great while if you went up there and peeked into a room or two along the main hallway you might see a single Guardian taking a few minutes to himself or herself- or even the big Russian man himself sitting in a chair in his workroom by the fire, looking out on the glittering snow as moonlight dances across it.

In this case however, it wasn't one of the rooms along the main hallway or the training rooms that were currently occupied for their privacy and silence. It was the room at the very tip top of the Pole, in what you might call the attic area above North's own workroom.

The room, in spite of its height, was unbelievably black. Not a single sliver of vibrant orangey light that emanated from the sun which just barely peaked above the crystalline horizon managed to creep its way through the thick, black curtains that had been put up at the occupant's request to shield his sensitive grey skin from the sun's rays which- while deadly to him no longer, still stung his eyes to the point of near blindness.

The occupant was, of course Pitch Black. The Boogeyman. Scourge of children's nightmares, ruler of the night and darkness itself. He had once been called the Demon of the Dark ages by those in the spirit realm who knew his powers and reputation, but once he had realized his true potential- with a little help from his family and friends, he had finally achieved his goal and become the Guardian of Courage, the person he was always meant to be. A demon, no longer.

But, as most human know, Karma is a twit that just _loooves _being cruel to people and because of that, nothing is ever without its cosmic catches. Even though Manny promised him no catches, he couldn't possibly have calculated the event that had happened just a single year ago that had sent all his, the Guardians and Pitch's hard work out the window and reduced the fearsome Boogeyman to a silent coward that couldn't bear to face the outside world and wouldn't let anyone, save Tooth, come in to see him.

She was there now as it happened, kneeling at his side in the darkness, holding his hand and trying to convince him as she had been trying for a whole year now to pick up the pieces and move on.

"Pitch," she begged the man whom she thought would be her partner after all the fuss with his memories was over, her eyes shining in the darkness with tears threatening to fall. "Pitch please, talk to me."

Pitch continued to sit in silence, pointedly looking away from her. She wasn't sure just _what _he had been looking at, but his attention hadn't shifted from it in the seven months since he had stopped talking to her.

She sighed tiredly. She had been at this for nearly a year now, trying to help jolt him back into the world of reality. So far, she hadn't had much luck, in spite of her persistence. And she had been _very _persistent, spending every waking minute of her time that wasn't tending to her duties as Tooth Fairy, talking to the Guardians and trying to get help from Manny by his side, talking to him and fighting tooth and nail- no pun intended, to bring him back to her. But so far, she hadn't succeeded. He just kept getting more and more distant by the day, and it seemed that nothing she did provoked any reaction.

There was a silver tray laying on the ground beside them on her other side, forgotten and unwanted by Pitch who she had brought it to in the hopes that he might eat something, but the hot soup had long gone cold and the bread stale. Still, in a vain hope she picked up the stale husk of bread and tried to put it into his hands, but when she pulled her own fingers away she heard a dull clunk as the bread dropped on the dirty floor boards.

"Pitch you need to eat! Please," she pleaded with him, slipping her hand beneath his robe which had been mended during the long months he had shut himself up in here by the Yeti seamstresses and feeling his ribs through the skin. Only a year before, they had been hard-packed abs. Now, she couldn't feel a thing. "You're wasting away!"

To her immense surprise, this time he actually responded to her. But the answer wasn't one she had been expecting, or was happy about.

"Go away."

Her eyes widened in shock. "Pitch please-" She tried to keep herself calm. This was the same old dance that they had been going through for a year, and she was getting sick of it. She loved him dearly, but sometimes she wondered if it might be better to just let him be alone.

Pitch interrupted her, his voice a low monotone. "No. I said go away. There's nothing you can do."

Tooth sighed exasperatedly. "That's true. I can't do anything," she agreed sadly. Then her voice grew steadier and cold. "If you refuse to let me in!"

He remained silent.

"You _have _to talk to me, Pitch. We're a couple now, and couples tell each other what their problems are."

Pitch turned away from her and shrugged the gentle hand that rested around his shoulder and tried to caress his face. "You know what my problem is, Tooth." he said coldly in the same monotone voice. "I know you mean well, but you can't do anything. Telling you would be redundant, since you can't do anything even when you do know."

Tooth opened her mouth to respond, but then she sighed and backed off. She knew that she would get nowhere with him this time, just like she hadn't gotten anywhere the hundred other times she'd tried to get to him. He was a broken man now, and nothing she could do now could bring him back. Still, she knew she had to try, even if he got angry again and started flinging Nightmare sand at her, like he had once when she'd angrily shouted that he was being stupid and that she was gone. That he couldn't bring her back by moping and that he should just _get over it_. Oh how she regretted those things now. She regretted them _so much_.

"Alright," she said, trying to keep her voice steady as she stood up and turned around, her ruffling feathers sending a soft _shush _across the floor. "Alright, I'm going." She lifted her arms out to feel for the door like a blind person, but soon her fingers closed around the cold bronze doorknob and she turned it, opening the door with a creak. Tooth crossed the threshold and went to shut the door, but before she did she looked back at her beloved Boogeyman, sitting there in the smothering silence and the darkness. "If you ever need me..." She said quietly, hoping for a glimmer of recognition but after a few minutes of silence she shrugged and shut the door quietly.

If he ever needed her, it was now. However, in spite of how much he might _need _her, it didn't matter in the least if he didn't _want _her.

After she shut the door, the room was doused in a silence so heavy it was almost palpable. Nothing stirred, save the thick layer of dust on the floor that was barely rustled by Pitch's soft breathing. Everything was all darkness and silence for ten long minutes as he waited, and waited, and waited until finally, when he was satisfied she wasn't coming back the hunched figure in the darkness forced himself slowly up to his feet, rather less gracefully than he would've done once upon a time.

If someone were to look through the gloom and describe Pitch in one word at that very moment, the obvious choice would've been _tired_. His eyes had dark bags hanging beneath them, the color of an old bruise, and the eyes themselves were dull and lifeless, completely devoid of their usual spark. Though, if you looked closer, past the crow's feet beneath his eyes and the lifeless gaze, you could also see a tiny glimmer of determination shimmering behind the dullness.

As Pitch rose, the customary pops and cracks of bones clicking into place again followed him. He wavered on the spot, waiting for his body to re-align itself before he took a careful step forward, then another, until finally he felt secure in his balance enough to walk- not glide, over to the far side of the room where a window sat, covered by thick black cloth that collected into a dusty pool on the bed resting beneath the window.

He pulled the curtain back slowly, just to gauge the amount of sunlight streaming through. Tongues of scarlet and golden flames dove through the gap in the curtains, illuminating the dusty floor with bottles, small boxes and tubes scattered across it that had been hidden by the shadows from Tooth's view.

_And a good thing too, _he thought as he released the curtain, plunging the whole room back into blackness. _If she saw..._

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of such thoughts. He hated lying to Tooth, hated it _so much_, but he didn't have a choice.

Pitch turned away from the window and silently dropped to one knee, bending down and stretching his arm out to feel beneath the bed. After a few minutes' rummaging he found what he had been searching for, and pulled it out.

A small, round bottle made from clear glass and full of black liquid shimmered in the darkness among his spidery fingertips as he turned it over and over, viewing it from every angle silently. His eyes, dull no longer, were shining with what some might call a mad glint along with the determination. It was time. After six months of skulking in the darkness like a specter, listening to Tooth and the others begging him to come downstairs and talk to them and sitting here, waiting, it was finally time.

He spent a long five minutes staring at the bottle, gazing into its depths where shimmering fragments swirled around and around as he swirled its contents gently, until finally he shook himself and looked up at the door Tooth had previously left through. There was longing in his eyes. Longing to tell her the truth of why he continued to stay up here, longing to go back downstairs and forget about all of this, just get on with his life.

_Soon._

Pitch raised a hand to his heart, feeling the unfamiliar pulsating organ beating in his chest. But there was an ache too. A massive, painful ache that had been present in his chest since that awful, fateful day he had learned of her death. The ache of a friend who had lost someone they dearly cared about, multiplied to a thousand times. He tried not to think about it, he had tried _so damn hard_, trying not to think about the aching in his heart of the countless sleepless nights spent crying himself to sleep for her.

"I've been waiting too long," He whispered to the darkness, gazing down at the door. "The pain is just getting more and more unbearable by the day."

And with that, Pitch Black turned and walked into the shadows, allowing his powers to take control of the darkness and smoothly transport his body to the destination firmly repeating in his mind. _Soon_, he thought. Soon everything would be alright. There was just one last thing he needed to do.

When he finally emerged from the shadows on the other side of the portal, Pitch found himself standing in the doorway of a closet, looking out on the familiar cluttered room of a child. He stepped out of the closet slowly, gazing around. It was a typical child's room. Medium-sized, with a bed by the window, a desk beside that with a lamp that glowed with a gentle golden light onto a mass of books and papers, and a small T.V sitting in the corner like one of the stone Golems that resided in the Warren.

At the desk, bent over a textbook with a pencil in his hand that sported the teeth marks of a thoughtful and dedicated student, was a young boy with messy brown hair, wearing a green T-shirt and black jeans.

Pitch smiled and silently crossed the room until he was standing right behind the youth. He leaned over Jamie's shoulder, looking at the paper he was writing. Something to do with math, judging by the presence of numbers and letters in the same line of text.

"Good evening Jamie."

Jamie jumped so hard that his paper slipped from the desk and landed on the floor with a soft sigh and his pencil went flying. It smacked against the wall and landed with a small thud against the floor, about the same time the boy spun around to face his visitor with a glare of annoyance but when he locked gazes with Pitch and saw just who had disturbed him, his angry expression faded.

"Oh. Pitch, it's you again." He said, standing up and smiling.

Pitch nodded silently. Due to the shift in hemispheres, it was much later in the evening here in Burgess than it was at the North Pole. Night had fallen hours ago, judging by the moonlight spilling in through the open window, and he had half-expected to see Jamie in bed. But here he was, wide awake.

Jamie looked him up and down slowly, taking in the dust-covered robe that had seen better days, in spite of being mended to the best of the yeti seamstresses' abilities, his unkempt hair and lifeless, tired eyes. "You know," He said, speaking slowly as his eyes finally had their fill and rose back to Pitch's face. "I expected you a lot sooner."

Pitch nodded again. "I would have been here earlier," He replied in the same low, flat tones he had used in the Pole. "But Tooth didn't want to leave."

"Hmm." Jamie turned around and picked up his fallen schoolwork, speaking to Pitch as he did so. "You'd think you would be grateful for her help," he said, his voice muffled as he reached under the desk and pulled out the sheet. It was covered in dust bunnies. Then he straightened up. "Especially now."

Pitch shook his head. "I am grateful," he told the boy. And he meant it. "Grateful for her love and her dedication to trying to bring me back," he looked down at the small bottle resting in his palm. "And once I take this, I'll finally be able to tell her."

Jamie's eyes fell on the bottle and his face turned stony. "So," he said softly, looking from the bottle to the Bogeyman's face. "You're finally going through with it?" He was trying to hide his disappointment and sadness but Pitch saw through the stone mask, and that just made the aching in his chest all the more painful.

"I have to, Jamie." Now his voice was firm, unwavering, though there was an entire torrent of emotions clawing at his heart and turning his stomach into tight coils of shame and pain but he did not let it out. He remained quiet and calm. "The pain, it's getting harder and harder to bear. And the way that Tooth looks at me..." Pitch raised the hand with the bottle to his chest and felt the slow, rhythmic beating of his heart through his robe. It was still strange to him, having a heartbeat. One of the bonuses of having the Fearlings eradicated form his body, or so Manny had told him in the precious few weeks of happiness he had had before learning of her death.

Jamie listened patiently, trying to keep his own emotions bottled up so that he didn't start yelling at the Boogeyman. _This isn't the way,_ he wanted to yell or cry or scream or do _anything_ to get him to see. _You can't do this __**again!**_

But Pitch wouldn't listen. He was too far gone. _Maybe, _Jamie thought._ Maybe if I had gotten to him earlier, maybe he wouldn't be doing this_. But he hadn't. And, in reality, if the Boogeyman hadn't come to him that late January night after her funeral, he probably wouldn't have known about Pitch's situation at all. The Guardians barely ever talked to him anymore, even Jack. They were all too busy with their jobs to pay any attention to the truest believer any more.

"I'll never be able to live with myself if I keep causing her pain because she worries for me." Pitch continued. "Or the rest of you." He reached forward and rested the hand without the bottle on the young boy's shoulder. "You understand, don't you Jamie? I can't… I can't see anyone else suffer because of me." His eyes were shining now. Shining bright with suppressed tears and raw heartache that made Jamie want to cry, but instead he looked away.

He had become somewhat of a confidant to the Nightmare King in the last few months, letting him travel through the shadows into his room and talk. Well, to be honest Jamie mostly did all the talking; trying to bring Pitch back to reality, like the others but of course doing it in his own special style.

They had spent many a long night together, sitting on Jamie's bed while the boy told him about his days in the human world. What his friends did, who was being a jerk that week, and what evil homework assignments he was late on. He had thought it would be good for Pitch to get out a little and have contact with another person, but it had actually turned out to be even _worse_ than him sitting all alone at the Pole.

Jamie took a deep breath and tried to speak in the calm, but commanding manner he had seen his friends' parents using. "Pitch, these memories are _a part of you_." He told him emphatically, reaching up to the hand resting on his shoulder and taking it in his. "I miss Abby too. I do!" He repeated when he saw Pitch's eyebrow raise, just a fraction. "Even if I didn't know her as well as you and the Guardians did, I still talked to her and laughed with her, just like you. And I'm sad that she's gone." He paused, watching for any sign of recognition that this was getting through to him but there was nothing. Pitch's face was a blank, unfeeling mask. "_Everybody_ has things that they would rather forget than deal with, but its thing that make us who we are."

Jamie himself had things that he would rather forget. The smell of diesel engines, and the sound of roaring fire in his ears. The sound of his sister screaming and the sharp odor of blood. Then he shook his head and continued, "And we can't just forget them, no matter how much we wish we could."

Pitch remained silent for a long time, staring down at the bottle in his hand like a statue that had been removed from its pedestal. Jamie watched his face closely, trying to see what thoughts lurked behind his dull, lifeless eyes but there was nothing. It was if a wall had been thrown up. A foggy glass which he could no longer see through. The book that had been Pitch's emotions, normally open and free for perusal, had been slammed shut and locked away in a small, hidden corner of his heart. All of it, except the pain.

The pain was the only thing Jamie could see, raw and wretched. It had been the one emotion he had always seen in Pitch's eyes since that cold January night. And he knew that, unless he followed through, it would never go away and because of that, half of Jamie wanted him to drink it. Drink the potion he had spent all this time making and forget about it all. But another half wanted to knock the bottle from Pitch's hands, shattering it into a million billion pieces and scream at him for even _contemplating _such an idiotic decision.

"It's not a matter of forgetting."

Jamie looked up from where his eyes had fallen to the bottle again. "Then what is it a matter of?" He demanded, a little annoyed by how little Pitch cared, not about the others or Abby's memory, but about himself. "Because I'm pretty sure that's what you've been focused on these last few months."

"It's not a matter of forgetting," Pitch repeated, finally looking Jaime in the eyes for the first time since he had startled the boy. "It's a matter of responsibility."

Jamie tried not to show his anger. He forced himself to remain calm, despite how infuriating Pitch was making him. He had been dealing with the Boogeyman's pigheadedness for months on end now, not to mention Jack's in the past, so he knew how to deal with it. To a degree. But this...this was pushing it. "Responsibility to who?" He demanded, fighting to keep his voice level. "_Yourself?_"

"The children of the world Jamie." Pitch replied. His eyes were sad and, for a moment, Jamie felt a pang of pity. Then it was snuffed out as he continued. "I've been holed up in the pole for nearly a year now, and while I've been drowning myself in self-pity, the world has been in chaos. I'm needed to help balance all this out."

The chaos to which he was referring was, of course the lack of master to control the Nightmares and darkness. Just like after the Nightmare War, when he had been sucked down into his lair and they had lost ant vestiges of self-control they had been created with, without their King to assign them they roamed the night freely, preying on the nightmares and instigating unnecessary terror across the world. Of course Sandy had helped stop it before he could spread past the Americas and part of Europe, but it was still- in his eyes anyway, his fault for not being there to corral them.

Jamie glared at him, clenching his fists. "Oh that's bull-crap Pitch Black, and you know it!" He snarled, taking a furious step towards the Boogeyman and pointing a finger that was quivering with anger towards him. "This is just _you,_ making excuses for not being able to keep yourself together. This is just like when the Fearlings took your memories of when you were Kozmotis, only this time you're doing it by your own choice!"

A small spark of the old Boogeyman ignited behind those dull, eclipse eyes. "I didn't come here to ask for your permission, Jamie." He told the boy with an angry scowl.

"Then why _did_ you come here?" Jamie demanded, stomping right over to him and holding his steady gaze. "Why did you come here, to me after the funeral, and not talk to the Guardians, or Jack, or Sera or Manny or _anybody else_ about this? They're your _family_ for Pete's sake! I'm just a human kid!"

Pitch internally sighed. Of course the others had tried, once they had learned of Abby's death, to help him through it. They had all tried so _abysmally_ hard, but no one, not Jack with his tricks, Bunny with his shouting that he had a job to do now, and couldn't stay shut up inside all the time moping because one little human girl was dead, not even Tooth with her unwavering love for him and equally unwavering patience, had been able to sway him back into the outside world.

"It's _my_ choice," he said softly, trying to keep his voice even. "And there isn't anything you can do to stop me."

Jamie snorted. "Oh of _that_ I'm well aware." He replied scathingly. "Everybody in your family seems to be pretty damn stubborn. Now I know where _Jack_ gets it."

Pitch's scowl shifted back to the default stony mask he had worn every other time Jamie had tried to ask him why he was doing this, with the tiny difference of this time looking slightly disappointed. "You're my first believer," he replied quietly. "I…thought…" Then he turned away and started walking back to the closet, his voice trailing behind him like a trail of fog. "I thought you would understand."

Suddenly all the anger evaporated from Jamie's body, like steam being vented from a boiler. He could think clearly again, his mind freed from the grip of rage that had held him and he slumped a little. It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, leaving him weak and barely able to stand. Guilt was gnawing at his heart and he called out to the Boogeyman just as he reached the open door of the closet. "Pitch, wait! I'm sorry I said those things. I didn't mean…" His voice dropped away quietly, hoping that Pitch would turn around and come back.

But he didn't. He simply said, "Don't worry. Tomorrow I won't remember any of this."

And before Jamie could say another word he vanished into the dark open maw of the closet, leaving the boy standing there dejectedly.

Jamie glanced at his homework, then out at the full moon hanging in the dark blue sky, knowing that there was no way he was going to get to sleep tonight. "Please let him be OK," he whispered as a quiet prayer to the Man in the Moon, then he turned around and sat back down at his desk and continued writing. These problems weren't going to solve themselves, his teacher always said. Though in this instance, he hoped it was untrue and that everything would, one day, work itself all out.

He was an optimist that way.

XXXXXX

_Stupid, stupid STUPID!_ Pitch berated himself silently as he stepped out of the shadows on a dark rooftop over-looking the city of Burgess. The rooftop was that of a bookseller's, on the side of town opposite to that Jamie's house, and was lit only by the moonlight shining on the beat-up sandpaper. He stormed out of the shadows like a bad dream, anger at himself and his idiocy turning his normally complacent and handsome features to a dark mask of self-berating anger.

"Why, in the name of darkness did I go to him?!" He asked the night, finally speaking aloud to himself for what had to be the first time in months as he paced along the rooftop. "_Why?_ Was I so abysmally _pathetic_ that I felt the need to ask a _child's_ permission?!"

Normally this was when the little voice in his head would pipe up with some uplifting declaration that he wasn't pathetic and that everybody felt like this at one time in their lives, but instead he was met with a thick silence, stretching out around him like a barrier between him and the real world.

He sighed, remembering that that little voice had actually been Kozmotis and that he was currently living happily up at the Moon Palace with Sera and Archaline. No more helpful suggestions would be coming from there. He would have to rely on himself to answer these questions and keep himself sane now.

For a few more minutes at least, until he drank the potion.

Thinking about the potion made Pitch glance down yet again at the small bottle in his hand. It was still amazing to him that something so small could change so much. Then again, hadn't it always been that way?

Pitch began walking again, meandering slowly across the rooftops of Burgess in no particular direction or hurry. He felt slightly nostalgic, though the memories he would be erasing wouldn't be of this place. He would still remember Burgess, of course, and the Guardians and the Nightmare War and Manny and everything that had happened to him last year that had helped him become a new and better man. The only thing that would be missing was the source of it all.

His memories of Abby.

"It's for the best," He tried to convince himself as he crossed the empty space between two buildings that created an alleyway below him. "I can't do my job, I can't be a good boyfriend to Tooth and I can't live with myself with these memories inside my head any longer." Not that he hadn't tried. Moon above he had tried _so damn hard_ to forget her on his own and just move on, but it hadn't been that simple. He heard her voice in his dreams, laughing and talking randomly about her Fanfiction and friends, just like she used to do. He saw memories of himself, sitting in the caves talking to her like they were old friends.

_Those were the worst ones,_ he thought dejectedly, looking down at his feet as he continued stepping from rooftop to rooftop. _The ones where we are both happy._

And now neither of them were happy. Well, she might be happy in whatever afterlife she had chosen. But he wasn't. _He_ was utterly miserable.

Pitch stopped walking just on the edge of a school's brick roof, looking out at the town below him. His feet, it seemed, were taking directions from his brain because not thirty feet away on the ground he could see the familiar wrought iron gates that led to the cemetery where she was buried, near one of the huge Oak trees and not far away from Jack's lake.

He sighed, gazing at the gates for a long moment before turning away and continuing across the rooftops. The funeral, in spite of its meaning, was one memory of Abby he would gladly trade away.

The day had dawned cold and wet. Pitch sighed again, remembering it with perfect clarity as if it had been only yesterday and not an entire year ago. Clouds had rolled in, dark and foreboding, from the north and had released their rain in torrential sheets down on the small town of burgess, making it seem like the world itself was crying for her. Mist has rolled in form the east in the wee hours of the morning and had lingered until nightfall. Pitch vaguely remembered Jamie saying something in passing about the weather man predicting sunny skies and low temperatures. Well, he hadn't factored in the overwhelming sadness that held Mother Nature in a vise and superimposed any foolish human's babbling.

He had shut himself up in the room North had generously given him- not the room he currently resided in but a warmer one, much closer to the inner workings of the Pole itself -for about a month after Fanty had told him the awful news, and as far as Tooth knew he had never left that room until the day of the funeral. But he knew better.

Pitch closed his eyes as he felt familiar pangs of desperation in his heart. The same pangs he had felt on that day when, a few days after Fanty had told him, he had tracked the only spirit he knew- besides Manny of course, that could resurrect humans. The Grim Reaper. It made him cringe now to recall how he had begged, ordered, threatened and yelled at him to bring her back to him. Not his proudest moment, but he had been hurting. The sting of her death had still been fresh in his heart and all he had been able to think about had been getting her back.

But Grim hadn't yielded. Not matter how much he had pleaded like a child.

"I only handle taking de human spirits t'dere afta life," he had said in that deep, booming Jamaican accent that most other spirits had never heard before and those that had found it extremely fitting. "I cannot bring wunna dem back, no matter how much I would want ta, witout orders."

"Then who gives you orders?!" Pitch had demanded.

"Someone higher uppon da celestial food-chain," Grim had replied and with that, vanished into a cloud of ravens that flew, screeching and cawing like a menagerie of beasts through his caves and out into the night, leaving Pitch fuming. Of course he had known who Grim had meant. There were only a few spirits stronger than Death itself, like Sera and Father Time, and only _one_ that could order him around. And that was the Man in the Moon. But when he had attempted to get in contact with Manny he had been ignored which had made him even more furious.

He had stood there, waiting for an answer in utter silence for at last a half an hour before he had started getting angry and finally he bellowed Nightlight's name, hoping that at least his younger brother might acknowledge his existence. And he had, appearing out of a beam of moonlight with staff in hand and a worried look on his face. He had asked what was wrong and Pitch had wasted no time.

"I need an audience with your brother, now."

Nightlight shifted uncomfortably. Pitch had watched his gaze shifting from his face to the sky, then back to his face again as if he were getting telepathic messages. Which he probably had. "Uh, he's busy right now. Schedule's booked up clear to next week!" That was Nightlight's excuse but Pitch wasn't having any of it.

"Tell him to make room." He ordered, regaining a fraction of the commanding General's tone which he had all but lost these days.

But even that hadn't been enough to make Nightlight cave. He squirmed and winced, but then firmly said- with a hint of compassion and pity as he shook his head, "No can do man. Sorry, but I can't allow it."

Anger had flared in his heart. "Nightlight _be damn _your orders," he snarled, advancing on the youth who had the good sense to back away. "Tell him I need to see him, _now!_"

Now, where most people probably would've vanished and left the Boogeyman before they got hurt- and in all honesty Pitch _had _fully expected Nightlight to disappear, as not many could withstand the full force of his angry gaze, the Guardian of the night realized that there had to be something serious that had happened to be affecting Pitch so. And so he had narrowed his eyes and asked the one question Pitch hadn't wanted to answer.

"What's this about?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Pitch said shortly, steel in his voice warning the teen away from the subject. "Now tell him to let me up."

But, instead of warding him off these words just made Nightlight's curiosity intensify. "Pitch, really if you've got something you need to get of your chest you can tell me," he offered kindly.

He had remained silent.

"Is it about that girl you lost?" Nightlight needled, trying to gain some kind of information from him before he pushed him too far and the Nightmare King just got sick of him and left.

Pitch clenched his fists but didn't respond.

Nightlight noticed this and nodded, as if his words had confirmed his suspicions. "It is. Are you trying to get her back or something? Is _that _why you wanted to talk to Manny?"

Pitch nodded silently, resigned to the fact that he would've found out anyway from Manny or one of the other spirits.

Nightlight's expression sobered and he reached out a hand to place it on the Boogeyman's shoulder. "Look Pitch, I know you're sad," he said, trying to be as gentle as possible. "But I'm not sure that talking to Manny will help with the pain. I can call Kozmotis if you like-"

"NO!" The word burst like a crack in a dam from Pitch's mouth, making the wary light spirit flinch back and yank his hand away. Pitch saw how afraid Nightlight was and he tried to make his voice a little less hostile. "No," he repeated. "I need to talk to Manny _now_. I need him to bring her back, and _don't _tell me it's beyond his power." He said firmly before Nightlight could interrupt. "I've spoken to Grim and he told me that the only one who can give the order to bring a soul back from the dead is Manny. He did it before, he can do it again."

Nightlight sighed tiredly, glancing up at the sky once more before addressing the heartbroken Boogeyman. "Pitch, _trust me, _Manny would love to bring back every child that died before they had a chance to live their life," he told him. "But it simply _isn't _the way of the world. Bad things happen, and when they do it's all that we can do to pick up the pieces and go on with our lives, but it has to be done to ensure the safety of the rest of the world."

"But…" Pitch could barely speak. While the boy had been speaking, tears of distress had started welling in his eyes and when Nightlight told him that basically there was nothing to be done, the tears had broken free, streaming down his face in thick waterfalls of salty water. There was a thick lump in his throat and he could barely keep his voice steady to respond. "But she was my world. I… I can't lose the one true friend I've ever had. Please Nightlight, please…" He let his sentence hang, hoping that by some stretch of generosity or pity, whichever worked, he would finally agree and take him to the Moon Palace.

Nightlight sighed. "You know I can't do that Pitch. Not only would it be breaking every code in the spirit rules," He paused and looked Pitch straight in the eyes. "But also, if we did resurrect her, have you even thought about whether she will _want _to be back?"

He had no response for that, because in truth he hadn't thought about it. He had been so focused on getting her back that nothing else, not the strong disapproval of Jamie or the rules of the spirit world or even the simple fact that she might not want to be back had even crossed his mind.

Nightlight, seeing that his point had been made, gave Pitch one last parting, "For what it's worth, I am sorry." Then he disintegrated into moonlight and flew back towards the heavens, leaving a sobbing Boogeyman alone in his caves.

Tooth had found him there, a few days later, sobbing like an infant on the ground, soaked in his own tears. She had been afraid initially, terrified that he had gotten hurt somehow but then her fear had shifted to confusion as he refused to talk to her. Of course she hadn't known the reason behind his sorrow and he was too miserable to tell her, so she had done the only thing she could: call the others. They had taken him back to the Pole, given him a little space until he had finally calmed down enough to tell them, then he had retreated back to his tower room to wallow in his misery.

That silver tray which was still probably laying on the floorboards of his room, that had been brought by Tooth. A few hours after he had initially told the others, she had brought in it as a kind gesture, hoping that it might make him feel better. He had rejected it, knowing that if he put anything in his stomach it would just come right back up again. Of course she had been worried by his refusal of food, what girlfriend wouldn't be? He had seen it in her eyes , but he told her he would be fine. What a lie. Still, she had respected his space and left him alone, expecting to see him in the morning but he had disappointed her.

_It seems like that's all I'm doing lately, _Pitch reflected as he walked steadily along a four inch-wide roof beam, barely paying any attention to his surroundings. This had also become a habit after thousands of years of solitude and he actually had enjoyed it in the beginning, but over the years it had become commonplace and he had just stopped caring. _Disappointing Tooth. _He didn't like it, but it was true. He had told her he loved her and didn't want her to see him sad like this. That was, of course when he had still been talking.

The next few weeks had flown by, nothing at all changing, and before he knew it it was time for the funeral. Everything had already been arranged between North, Tooth and the three girls that were her best friends by the time Tooth had some to fetch him. The date had been set for January first, nearly a week after Christmas and a year ago today.

Everyone had attended. The Guardians, Sera, Kozmotis and Archaline, Abby's friends, even Jamie and the burgess children had shown up, all wearing somber black suits and dresses. Little Sophie hadn't been allowed to attend because the Bennett children's mother hadn't thought it appropriate to have a three-year-old running around at a funeral. When they had appeared in the middle of the graveyard they were immediately met by Fanty, wearing an elegant gothic black dress with long, flowing sleeves and a triangle of black spider-patterned lace in the front of the skirt.

She'd thanked them for coming, then led them past the stones of the already deceased until they reached the small crowd gathered around the coffin which sat next to a massive hole in the ground. But it hadn't been an ordinary coffin, oh no. Not for Abby. Together, as a final gift for the girl who had changed all their lives, the Guardians had each used their special talents to make a piece of the case that would soon be lowered into the ground and house Abby's body.

North, as the resident carpenter, had made the main body. He had used strong, supple oak for the wood and had cast multiple preservation spells once he had finished carving all the pieces, which had been done completely by hand. He had also helped Jack with his contribution by putting a preservation spell on the diamond-patterned ice the teen had decided to use as glass for the lid, even going so far as to tint the glass with Abby's favorite color, but not enough so that her face wouldn't be able to be seen.

Tooth likewise had used some of the rainbow diamonds that tiled the floors of her Palace platforms to cover the long sides of the coffin like scales, reflecting what meager light shone in the sky in a cascade of shimmering colors. The head and foot boards were covered in golden sand and engraved with swirling oak leaves and an elegant capital A in the center, courtesy of the Sandman, and gorgeous garlands of roses, peonies and lilies, intermixed with small sprigs of lavender and baby's breath and held together by interlocking vines of ivy and leaves. Bunny was responsible for those, of course.

Of course, the three girls had not been without their contributions as well, and when Pitch tore his eyes away from the gorgeous casket he saw what it was. A white marble headstone that read her real name and her alias: Alyss "Abby" Stuart, her birth date- September 3rd, 1997, and a memorial.

_Now I have become life, the creator of worlds._

Pitch went up to the coffin, wanting to see her face at least once before she was buried, but before he could see more than see a few strands of purple hair he felt sick and he backed away, his nerve gone. He couldn't look. To look once would burn her face into his eyes permanently, and he knew that he would not be able to live with that.

Tooth put a hand on his shoulder. She meant it as a sign of comfort and reassurance that he wasn't alone in his grieving, but Pitch knew that wasn't true. He _was _alone. Not literally, but in the sense that a piece of him was getting buried today, along with the frail, lifeless corpse that had once been Abby.

The ceremony was brusque, short and to the point. Typical Abby. Once everyone had shown up Fanty had cleared her throat, thanked them again for coming, then had started reading aloud from a letter she had found while looking through Abby's books. He could still hear her haunting words echoing through his thoughts.

_"_Dear friends," she read in a loud, clear voice. "If you are reading this, then one of two things has happened. Either I am dead and you guys are going through my stuff to see how much you can hock at the pawnshop down the street,"

Star had sniffed at that, mumbling something about missing her gallows humor. Drago put her arm around her shoulders and whispered something that he hadn't been able to catch. Both girls had red eyes and it had looked like they were both trying hard not to cry.

"Or I've lent one of you my copy of Inkdeath. If the case is the latter then disregard the rest of this letter and put it back where you've found it. If not..." Fanty paused, her voice growing softer, as if the words were a taboo she was afraid to break. "Then I am so sorry my friends. But you knew this was a possibility. I told you all, and as much as I hate to admit it, if you're reading this then my theory is- was, true. I also told you that if I were to go missing or die under mysterious circumstances, then it was a good chance my father was involved."

Pitch's ears perked up at that and he raised his head, staring at the papers in Fanty's hands. Her father? What did her father have to do with any of this? He only remembered her mentioning the man once or twice and even then it had only been in passing. From what he understood, she loathed the man. The current Pitch, however, knew _exactly _why Abby had hated him, and knew that it was completely deserved hate.

"However," Fanty continued, a sad smile turning up the corners of her lips. "Knowing that, I ask you guys please, whatever you do, please don't go all 'avenging amazons' on him." She chuckled once. "Heh, I'm getting an image of you guys dressed in skins and carrying spears and bows with eagle feathers and war paint on your faces. He's an asshole, true, and I don't doubt that you three could kick some serious corporate ass. And get arrested in the process. Please, listen to me. Whoever did this to me will be held accounted for, but not by you three."

It was almost as if Abby herself were reading the words, Fanty's tone and inflections were so similar. Pitch wondered if they were from the same area of the states.

"There, now that I've said my piece on that matter. Now I guess I should take the time to write down some of my last requests. There aren't many, but the ones I have should be appreciated, and they go as follows: For my funeral, the arrangements I leave in Fanty's capable hands. She knows I'm not religious and don't expect to be buried under last rights. In fact, now that I think about it, it might just be better if there were no ceremony at all. You know I don't like it when people cry, and I think I would come back to haunt you guys, just for that if you did."

Beside him, Tooth let out a laugh that was more hiccup than humor.

Fanty continued. "I do, however, have a request for you all, and it's a really special one; That you each pick a single song to say goodbye to me with. It doesn't have to be something I would like. Just...something that feels right. Music is the pathway to the soul, it is said, and if you lift your voiced I'm sure to hear them. Unless of course I end up where people have been telling me all my life. In which case, direct your voices at your feet. Then I'll hear it." Then she rolled up the paper and said, addressing them, "And in accordance to this last wish of our friend Abby's, Drago, Fanty and I will now sing the songs we've chosen. I'll begin."

Beside her, Drago bent down and pressed a button on the small stereo that sat by her feet which the Guardians hadn't noticed and music began to play, starting with a soft piano solo.

Fanty took a deep breath as the first few notes played, then she opened her mouth and a voice as soft as velvet slipped from between her lips. "_I'm so tired of being here... suppressed by all my childish fears. And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave. 'Cause your presence still lingers here... and it won't leave me alone. These wounds won't seem to heal. This pain is just too real. There's just too much that time cannot erase_-"

Then she erupted into a powerful chorus and Pitch could see her fighting hard to keep the tears in.

"_When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears! When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears! And I held your hand through all of these years..." _Then her voice softened, in perfect harmony with the music, tapering away to almost a silent whisper. "_But you still... have..." _A short piano solo. _"Aaaall of me_."

The song continued with the piano solo and she took a few gulps of air to calm herself before, right on key, she started the second verse.

"_You used to captivate me by your resonating light. Now I'm bound by the life you left behi-i-ind." _She arched the last word, then took a breath. "_Your face it haunts... my once pleasant dreams. Your voice it chased away... all the sanity in me. These wounds won't seem to heal. This pain is just too real. There's just too much that time cannot erase." _Her voice sounded like it was about to break but she kept on singing. "_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears! When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears! And I held your hand through all of these years... But you still... have... all of me_." Her voice grew louder, more strong as the music picked up, adding drums to the mix and a guitar.

"_I've tried so hard to tell myself that yoooou're gooone. But though you're still with me, I've been ALOOONE all ALONG!" _An epic guitar riff, accompanied by smooth drumbeats filled the silence until she began to sing the chorus for the last time, with as much passion as she could muster. _"When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears! When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears! And I held your hand through all of these years..." _All at once the guitar and drums completely stopped and only the gentle sound of the piano was left, playing the same . _"But you still have... aaaaall of meeee." _Her voice tapered off into silence as the music slowed and finally stopped.

The Guardians stood, motionless. Tears were welling in all their eyes but none dared let them flow.

Fanty lifted her hand to her mouth, imparted a single gentle kiss on her fingertips, then reached int the coffin and placed them on Abby's forehead. Her voice, choked with emotions, echoed in the silence. "I miss you Abby." Then she stepped back from the coffin. "Drago, it's your turn." She whispered.

Drago patted Star gently on the shoulder, then pulled her arm out from around her friend's shoulders and stepped forward, taking her place in front of the casket. Star sniffed and bent down to press another button on the stereo which started a new song playing.

It began slowly, with a single guitar solo strumming smooth notes that fit perfectly with the melancholy mood. Then, as the tune paused and Drago began to sing. "_The past time so familiar, but that's why you couldn't stay. Too many ghosts, too many haunted dreams, beside you were built to find your own way. But after all these years... I thought we'd still hold on. But when I reach for you and search your eyes, I see you've already gone._"

Her voice was a stunning alto, strong and brimming with passion, yet it was soft and almost dripping with sadness. It was completely different than Fanty's velvety voice and it tugged at Pitch's heartstrings, though the lyrics were somewhat less than appropriate. But, if that was what she had chosen.

Drago began the chorus, accompanied by a gentle tambourine's rattle. "_That's OK. I'll be fine. I've got myself, I'll heal in time. But when you leave just remember what we've had. There's more to life than just you. I may cry but I'll make it through, and I know that the sun will shine again... Though I may think of you now and then."_

The guitar solo returned and, to its rhythm Drago began to croon softly.

"_Ooooo, ooooo. Can't do a thing with ashes... but throw them to the wind. Though this heart may be in pieces now, you know I'll build it up again and I'll come back stronger than I ever did before. Just don't turn around when you walk out that door. That's OK. I'll be fi-i-ine. I've got myself, I'll heal in time. But when you leave just remember what we've had. There's more to life than just you. I may cry but I'll make it through, and I know that the sun will shine again... Though I may think of you now and then."_

She repeated the chorus then, and as the end as a finishing note, with her voice slow and steady as a rock she sang. _"And even though our stories at the end... I still may think of you now and then." _She looked down into the coffin, nodded once, and then stepped back. "Star, it's your turn."

Pitch's eyes drifted to the youngest of the three girls as she stepped forward, her shoulder-length brown hair glistening from the rain that had instantly dried up upon their arrival, courtesy of Sera. Her eyes were red as she turned around to the other two. "Will you sing it with me?" She asked quietly.

Fanty and Drago glanced at each other, then without a word stepped forward until they were on either side of Star. Star took their hands. "For her." She whispered.

Fanty and Drago nodded. "For her." They said. Star took a deep breath, then began with her sweet, melodious soprano. There was a violin playing too, or maybe that was just the wind. "_Of all the money that e'er I haaaaad,"_ then the other two joined in. Alto, soprano and Fanty's velvety tenor. _"I've spent i-i-it in good company." _Fanty and star broke off, as if they had rehearsed this, leaving just Star's voice. "_And all the harm I've ever done," The girls joined in again and this time they didn't stop. "Alas it was to none but me. And all I've done... for want of wit, to mem'ry now I can't recall_."

He felt Tooth's hand slip between his fingers. He glanced up at her. She was smiling through her tears. He tried to smile back but his heart wasn't in it. Beside them, Tooth had also taken Sera's hand who had taken North's and her father's, and so on until there was a half-moon human chain standing on the outskirts of the gorgeous coffin.

"_So fill to me the parting glass. Good night aaand joy be to you all." _There was a short pause while the girls took a breath and Pitch could hear the soft violin in the background from the stereo strike up again among the voices which sang with renewed gusto. _"So fill to me the parting glass, and drink a health whate'er befalls. I'll gently rise and softly call, good night and joy be to you all."_ Everything was perfect, from the harmonic melding of voices to the gentle wind that blew and carried their voices up to the sky.

Suddenly, guitars began to strum along with the violin and his sensitive ears could pick out a soft drumbeat as well, underlying their voices. "_Of all the comrades that e'er I had, they're sorry for your going away. And all the sweethearts that e'er I had, they'd wish me one more day to stay. But since it fell unto my lot... that I should rise and you should not. I gently rise and softly call... Good night and joy be to you all."_

It sounded like a whole orchestra was standing just behind them. Cymbals clashed like tinkling china, drums beat like the footsteps of giants and the flutes that rose up from the stereo like the voices of angels.

"_Fill to me the parting glass, and drink a health what e'er befalls. And gently rise and softly call, good night and joy be to you all_."

Now there were bagpipes, as if the whole of Scotland had come out to give her the grandest sendoff since the great queens of old. The girls hummed along at the song neared its end, each perfectly in their element and een some of the Guardians had started humming along to pay tribute until finally, it was time for the song to end.

The girls took one last deep breath, then let their voices fly, haunting and more beautiful than anything Pitch had ever heard in his life. The perfect sendoff.

"_But since it fell unto my lot that I should rise and you should not, I gently rise and softly call, good night and joy be to you all. Good night and joy be to you aaaaaall_." The flutes lifted with their voices, melding together to create a single long crescendo that was nothing short of spectacular and lasted for long, long minutes. Until all at once, the song was over. The music ended. And everything was still.

XXXXXXX

"_Taking a nighttime stroll?"_

Pitch blinked, coming out of his memory of the funeral just in time to realize he was about to walk off a roof. He stopped, just as he was about to take the step that would've plunged him straight down into the street and looked around. The voice had come out of nowhere and at first he thought one of the Guardians had followed him, but when he looked around for the owner he didn't see anyone.

"_Up here_."

He glanced upward and when he saw who was addressing him he scowled. "Oh, it's _you_." He growled, clenching his fists.

The voice of the Man in the Moon filled his mind. "_Yes, it's me._" He said simply.

Pitch wasn't in the mood for this right now. He had wasted enough time walking around and ruminating about the past. If he didn't do it soon and get back to the Pole, Tooth would come looking for him. "What do you want Lunar?" He demanded coldly, staring up at the full moon hanging in the sky where he could just picture Manny sitting in that little nook with his huge telescope, staring down at him like a bug under a microscope.

There was silence for a moment as Manny deliberated, during which Pitch started tapping his foot impatiently. "_Can't I just stop in on an old friend and ask how he's doing?_" Manny finally asked, his tone the peak of polite inquiry.

Pitch ground his teeth. "You could've done it a lot sooner," he growled, trying to keep his temper. He was getting _very_ sick of Manny's last-minute heroics. "About a year sooner actually. And I would hardly call this 'dropping in'."

"_Fair enough_." Manny replied and Pitch could almost hear him nodding his head in acknowledgement. "_Though in the instance of speaking to you a lot sooner, I'm afraid that I was indisposed and this is honestly the soonest I could talk to you._"

Pitch raised an eyebrow. "_What in the seven hells_ could've kept you busy for the last year?" He demanded, half angry and half skeptical.

"_That is my business_," Manny replied shortly, indicating that there was to be no further discussion. "_Sufficed to say that I could not have gotten here any sooner, and for that I am sorry Pitch_." He sighed. "_It seems I am_ _a rather poor leader when I am needed, and a good one when I'm not._"

Pitch rolled his eyes. "And here I thought I was going to be the only miserable self-pitying spirit in the universe tonight." He muttered.

"_I'm not pitying myself_," Manny told him seriously. "_I'm apologizing for not letting you into the Palace when you asked. In spite of what I was dealing with as a result of my own personal choice, I should have. I should have listened to you, and for that I'm sorry._"

Pitch didn't respond. He wasn't feeling charitable enough today to accept Manny's apology. "So," He said, changing the subject as he lowered his head and sat down on the cold roof with his feet dangling over the edge. "You know why I'm here." It was a statement, not a question. Of course he knew. The Man in the Moon knew everything.

"_I do_."

Pitch glanced down at the bottle resting gently in his lap. "And your plan is to…what? Talk me out of it? Good luck." He snorted, setting the bottle down on the flat brick beside him as he glanced upward again. "Because at this point I don't have much of an option."

He expected Manny to say yes and then launch into a long lecture all about how these memories were a part of him and that he shouldn't let them go, no matter how painful they were, just like Jamie had. Typical arguments which he really wasn't into listening to _again_. But when Manny did speak, the words that Pitch heard echoing through his mind weren't the ones he had been expecting at all.

"_Well_," he replied indifferently. "_It's your choice._"

Pitch frowned. "What…did you say?" he asked, not sure he had heard right.

"_It's your choice,"_ Manny repeated firmly. "_I know that I personally would just want the pain to end, so I would drink it all down without a thought._"

Pitch was so surprised that he didn't know what to do, so he just sat there staring up at the moon like a statue of some dark god, longing for answers.

Manny sighed. "_Did I ever tell you about the years right after my parents were killed?_" He didn't pause to let Pitch answer, not that he could've. "_No, of course not._ _I never told anybody, not even the Guardians._"

Pitch remained silent.

"_I grew up on the Moon, all alone except for my nursemaid and the moonlight,_" he began, his voice starting to take on the air of a storyteller. Just like _she_ used to do. _No!_ Pitch told himself as Manny continued speaking. _No, don't think about her any more. Once Manny finishes with his story I'm going to drink this potion and I won't remember anything about her. _"_Nightlight was too busy being a Guardian to come visit me more than a few times a year, so I never saw him_."

Pitch nodded slowly, trying to imagine a younger Manny but he couldn't.

"_I think that time passed differently for me than for most children, because soon I found myself a young man. What would probably now be called a teenager. But even though I grew fast and was a spirit, I soon learned I wasn't immune to the normal things that plagued children. Hunger, thirst, boredom and, most of all, fear._"

That made Pitch's ears prick up. "What?" He asked, wondering if he had heard him wrong.

"_Yes, you heard me right. Fear_."

Pitch's frown deepened. That didn't make sense.

From what he remembered of those early years when the Fearlings had dragged his body back and forth across the cosmos on a vicious manhunt for the child the thought was the single surviving heir of the Lunanoff house, it had been because of his utter fearlessness that the Fearlings had wanted to find him. He had only been a weak shimmer of a consciousness at that point, but it had been enough for him to remember snatches of conversations between the demons. They had wanted him because a fearless body made for the perfect Fearling vessel. That was why they had chosen Kozmotis. But his body was weak, and they needed a stronger one. A child's.

"_Even I, the great Man in the Moon, was not immune to it as a child. No child is_." Manny continued. "_And neither was I immune to Nightmares_."

"But-" Pitch stammered, now thoroughly confused. "But I hadn't created-"

"_I'm not talking about your horses, Pitch._" Manny smoothly interrupted, causing any response Pitch had had to die in his throat. "_The things I speak of have been around for far longer than those corporeal embodiments. Real Nightmares. The kind that steal into a child's subconscious and twist their most horrible memories into plaguing visions that they see every time their eyes close._"

Pitch shuddered. He knew of what Manny was speaking. The creatures that had roamed the earth before he had caught them and forced them into somewhat of a docile nature, though they still reared up now and then. Nightshades, they had been called. Demons, pure and simple. _If I had been using them instead of the nightmares in the Nightmare war…_ he shuddered again. _The Guardians would've been torn apart._

"_I had nightmares every night,_" Manny told him and there was great sadness in his voice. "_Horrible ones. Ones of bloodshed and screaming, of my parents being torn apart by darkness itself and then devoured right in front of me and I could do nothing to stop it. This happened over and over again, every night from the time I was walking until it was so heart-breaking that I couldn't stand it anymore. I was a young man by that time, and like you I knew that I couldn't do the job I was destined to do as long as these horrible visions haunted my nights."_

Finally, Pitch managed to find his voice. "What... what did you do?" He asked. His voice was soft, almost fearful.

There was a long pause, during which Pitch waited with bated breath. He knew better than anyone that his and the Man in the Moon's situations weren't all that dissimilar. Both had had destinies thrust upon them without their consideration or consent, and both times it had been because of other's actions. But both of them had risen to meet their destinies head-on and that courage had enabled them to win against the ongoing struggle of good and evil. At least, for now.

Then, Manny spoke. "_I did exactly what you're trying to do."_

Pitch blinked. "What?"

"_I did exactly what you're trying to do_," Manny repeated. "_I found a way to hold those memories back until such time as I had need of them again so that I could fulfill my duty and be the Man in the Moon_."

"But- but-" He _couldn't_ be hearing this! The Man in the Moon, the ultimate fearless spirit, had actually _run away from something?!_ It was ridiculous. "You're lying." He accused, a little bit of the old suspicious Pitch coming back into his tone. "You're trying to stop me from drinking it!"

"_I'm not._" Manny told him honestly. "_I truly am not trying to force you into anything Pitch. I just wanted you to know that you aren't as alone in this as you feel, and others have had to do the same thing. Not just me, but a few of the Guardians as well_."

Pitch's eyes widened for a split second, then they narrowed in disbelief. Now this was too much. That Manny had gone through this as well, _that_ he _might_ believe. But the _Guardians?_ "What could any of them possibly have to forget?" He asked skeptically.

The hair on the back of his neck began to prickle as he felt the moonlight shining on him again, indicative of Manny's displeasure. "_Have you forgotten how Tooth became a spirit?_" He asked coldly. "_Have you forgotten how happy Sanderson was to see his old friend Kozmotis? Have you been so __**utterly**__ wrapped up in your own misery that you forgot about the __**tens of thousands**__ of fellow Pookah Aster lost the day the Fearlings attacked the Warren? __**Well?**_"

Pitch flinched as if the great spirit had struck him. "No," he said hoarsely, still staring up at the sky. "No, of course not. But…"

"_But you think your pain is stronger than all of that, and so you just want to end it._" Manny finished for him, his voice much more gentle and softer than before, as if he had sensed how utterly terrified Pitch was right now. "_I understand, I __**really **__**do**__ Pitch. And, if that is your choice, who am I to stop you?_"

Pitch glanced down once again at the tiny bottle in his hand, his old thoughts recycling back from when he had walked along the rooftops. _It's such a small object._ _Too small to think it could change so much, and once I drink it there will be no going back._

Then he glanced back up at the Moon and said with a small smile, "You're being rather more supportive of this than I thought you would be. I'm a little worried this is going to do more than just get rid of my memories of her."

"_Since when has me being supportive ever been a __**bad**__ thing?_" Manny asked nonchalantly.

Pitch gave him a deadpan look.

"_OK, forget I asked._"

Pitch sighed. He felt so tired. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and possibly never wake up again. Just live out the rest of his days in a happy dream, where she was still alive and everything was fine and right with the world.

But that was all it was. A dream, and he needed to face reality.

"Well, if you _really_ think I should..." He said slowly, looking from the bottle to the moon again.

"_It's up to you old friend._" Manny repeated. "_Just know that you have my full support, whatever your choice may be_."

Pitch nodded gratefully. "Thank you." He said, then turned his gaze to stare out at the beautiful little town of Burgess. It was strange to think, but this little town had, over the years, become a true home to him. More so than his lair or the Pole or even the Tooth Palace. This place was home because home was full of memories. Good ones, and bad ones. Happy ones, sad ones, terrible ones and beautiful ones. And because of that, it was fitting that the last place he would remember Abby would be the place where he had made most of his memories.

He unstopped the bottle's cork, the sound like the gentle pop of a child's toy gun in the still and silence. He lifted it to his face, staring deep into the contents. "Abby, wherever you are, I hope you know that ultimately, it was you who saved me. And for that I will _always_ be grateful." He closed his eyes, put the bottle's mouth to his lips and whispered, "Forgive me Abby." Then began to drink.

The potion had no taste. At least, not that he could discern. It was just a bland, tasteless, odorless liquid. Like water, only, water had taste. This felt like he was simply swallowing cold air that slithered down his throat and into the pit of his stomach. But he drank it all, as the instructions that had accompanied the potion's list of ingredients had told him to, without taking a single breath. And only when the bottle was completely empty did he pull it from his lips and inhale deeply. It had been a whole year and he still hadn't gotten used to the act of breathing.

Pitch yawned. It appeared he still hadn't gotten used to keeping the strict sleeping schedule Tooth had tried to impose on him after she learned he only slept a few nights a month either, though in all honesty it had been fun to try it. Especially when Tooth had been there with him, her warm feathered body cuddled up against his under the covers in her room at the Tooth Palace.

He stretched his arms out wide, flexing his fingers in the customary way people do when they are tired but know they need to stay awake for a little longer. He was about to roll his shoulder to loosen them up a little before setting off to perform his usual nighttime duties when he heard a small crash beside him. Pitch jumped back from the edge of the roof, looking down at what he presumed was the cause for the crash. There was a small pile of clear glass on the ground beside him and when be bent down to inspect it, he saw that it appeared to be a small vial.

"Huh. Interesting." He picked up a piece of the glass, turning it over in his hand. It must've been in his hand when he had flexed his fingers and he had forgotten about it. "Odd." He set the piece of glass down and straightened up, brushing himself off. His robe was in a disgraceful state, covered so much in dust and grime that he sickened him. "Better go grab a change of clothes before I begin my rounds," he murmured to himself, getting ready to use the shadows to teleport back to his caves. "Can't have the children thinking the big scary Boogeyman is also the leader of the dust bunnies under their beds."

"_Pitch_."

Pitch looked up, hearing his name being called. "Hello? Who's there?" Then he noticed the moon hanging in the sky. "Oh, hello old friend." He greeted the Moon with a happy smile. Though he hadn't seen much of Manny since he had left the Pole with Nightlight a year ago, it still brought a smile to his face whenever he noticed the being who had single-handedly saved his life watching over him from the sky above. "How is life on the Lunar Palace?"

Manny remained silent for a long time, which Pitch didn't mind. He knew how hard it was for Manny to speak to those that he hadn't directly brought back to life as a spirit, so if Manny didn't want to idly chit-chat it was OK by him. He still had quite a few houses to visit tonight, after all.

He waited for another few minutes patiently, fiddling with the cuff of his robe. It really was in a disgraceful state he reflected, tugging at a loose thread. What _had_ he been doing to get it in such awful repair? He thought back on the previous few months, trying to pinpoint how and when he had started abusing his robes so badly, but it just would not come to him. Odd. He normally had suck a good memory.

"_I need to go raid Katherine's Vodka stash_."

Pitch looked up with a smile. Finally, a response! Then the actual words filtered back down into his mind and he did a double-take. "Wait, what?" He asked, both eyebrows rising in surprise and confusion.

"_Never mind. Good night Pitch_."

Now it was a single eyebrow that rose. "Good night," he said uncertainly, wondering what could've happened to the Man in the Moon for him to suddenly be craving Russian liquor. After a few more minutes of getting no response, Pitch slowly turned around and walked into one of the shadows, thinking, _I guess if I were basically in charge of the whole spirit realm then I would need a drink now and then too._

XXXXXXXXX

After arriving in his home, which he also found in a horrid state- "What on earth are year old pizza boxes doing on my library?!" -changing into a robe that wasn't _quite_ so threadbare- "I really must pay a visit to a tailor." –and discovering that not only were his clothes and lair a mess, but his _hair_ was too- "Ok that is the last straw! I know I've been over-working myself a bit but this is ridiculous!" –Pitch finally emerged from the hole in the ground that was the entrance to his lair, groomed and clothed in meticulous perfection. His hair was slicked back into its usual feathery spikes, his robe billowed gloriously as he glided and he felt every inch the Boogeyman he had always aspired to be.

"Now all I've got to do is take care of that abomination I call a home and everything will be perfect." He told himself as he crossed the main street of Burgess, following his internal fear-radar to the closest child who needed a good, healthy dose of courage. He knew he really should be making his world-rounds tonight, but for some reason he felt oddly tired. Like he hadn't slept in a few months.

_Tooth won't be very happy about that,_ he thought as he rose up through the night air and alighted on the roof of a two-story house with three- no, four children inside. Two in need of nightmares. _If I'm not careful she will team up with Sandy and I'll be lucky if I_ _don't get knocked out for a month!_

The children in need of nightmares were a boy and a girl, both nearly twelve. He stole in through the shadows and appeared in the boy's room first, as his fear seemed to be much stronger than the girls'. The boy was already being tormented by a black cloud of swirling sand broiling above his head, which Pitch looked into and found that the poor child was a victim of that terrible pre-adolescent practice of wedgying, and as a result he was terrified of going to school now.

Pitch laid a hand on the boy's nightmare and allowed a little of his power to seep through, changing the great hulking monsters that were pulling the boy apart like taffy into huge blobs of that very same substance, which the boy then proceeded to eat. Pitch watched with a smile of satisfaction on his face. Tomorrow, this little boy would stand up to his bullies and hopefully give them a good clock in the nose. Then he faded through the wall and re-appeared on the girls' side.

As it turned out, she had a different and much more pressing problem than her brother. She just wasn't as afraid as he was, so it hadn't registered on his internal scale as important. She was being physically abused. Hit, slapped, punched and sometimes worse, day after day by three boys who cornered her as soon as she got out of school behind the garbage bins. But she was too afraid to tell anybody because they had threatened her younger siblings.

Pitch sighed, stroking the young girl's nightmare orb gently, watching her whimper and squirm as in the dream three gigantic earthworms started wrapping around her, slimy and disgusting, coiling around and around and around her until she couldn't breathe. He hated seeing this, that humans could be so abysmally cruel and evil to their own kind, especially the children. _This one would require more gentle measures, _he thought. She was too weak and damaged to do anything about it on her own, so he decided to use an old method he hadn't needed in a very long time. Going into the nightmare himself.

Which he did, in the form of a great black eagle that snatched up the worms and swallowed them in one gulp. Then he transformed back to his normal shape and went to the girl.

"Are you alright?" He asked tentatively, bending down and brushing her shoulder with his grey hand.

She shirked away and screamed something unintelligible, pushing with her hands, fingers splayed in an attempt to ward him off.

Pitch knew better than to push, so he simply backed away and left the nightmare, reemerging back in her room and staring at her sadly. There wasn't anything more he could do for her now. It was up to her parents to fix this.

After using his sand to lift the little girl and teleport her into her parent's bed, where she would awaken a few hours later, babbling the whole story to her parents who would then proceed to charge the boys with assault and molestation. But Pitch didn't know that. All he knew was that he had helped a little girl make a life-changing decision, and that thought filled him with happiness and purpose.

_Now,_ he thought as he slipped through the shadows again and reemerged on the street. _Let's go inflict a few nightmares on those bullies. _He might be the Guardian of Courage, but he had been the Nightmare King first.

And that was how he spent the rest of the night traveling across the city of Burgess, giving the children who deserved them Nightmares and enjoying the sensation of feeling powerful again. It felt like he hadn't tasted fear in months, though he could clearly remember visiting this same city just a few weeks ago. He couldn't remember what he had done, but it was probably the same thing as he was doing now. After a few thousand years the nights sometimes started to blur together, especially when he was tired.

Night had already begun to draw to a close and there were little pinpricks of light creeping up over the hills and trees, splashing the sky with vibrant pinks and yellows before Pitch finally decided that his job was done and started to make his way back home to his caves. It had been a good night, and after a good night's sleep tomorrow he could get to work on cleaning his lair.

At least that was a plan. But, like the best laid plans of spirits and men, it was about to be thrown out the window by destiny.

For the most part, anyway.

Pitch was paying hardly any attention to his surroundings as he glided through the air. He was too focused on getting home to his bed and was taking shortcuts to get there, through alleys and over rooftops that were as easy to navigate as the hallways in his own lair.

"Or maybe not," He murmured to himself as he stopped right outside another window and glanced around. Where had his feet taken him now?

But before he could figure out the answer to his question, as his gaze traveled past the open window of the child's room and out into the streets, looking for a familiar landmark that would lead him to his lair, a glint of light shone out of the corner of his eye. He turned and looked. It was coming from inside the child's room. This, in itself wasn't very unusual. Most children stayed up far past their bed times these days, studying for tests and reading passages for homework and the like, so it was no surprise to him to find a light still burning bright and a little child stooped over a desk, pencil in her hand.

_Such a disobedient child is just asking for a little nightmare_, he thought, smirking as he ducked his head in through the window, looking around the room for the course of the light. _Probably something along the lines of a giant homework monster in the shape of her mother, telling her to go to sleep._

Just as he had suspected, there was a little girl bent over her desk, brown hair spilling out of her rainbow beanie and across her shoulders, pooling together on the desk in a brunette cascade of ringlets. She was writing feverishly and muttering to herself, the picture of an eager young writer. Though, when he looked closer he realized that she was not in fact alone. There was someone else in the room.

He frowned, then shifted through the shadows until he was inside the room, standing in a dark corner like a silent statue, watching as the girl scribbled away. There was another girl, one much older, with golden blonde hair, a violet-colored shirt and ink-stained jeans, sitting on the bed beside the girl's desk, listing something off to the little girl. _Her older sister?_ Pitch wondered, listening. Though from what he could see, even though the girls were turned away from him, she didn't look much like her.

"I wouldn't go with _He_ _erupted through the door_. Erupted is a bit strong a word. Try _The door opened with a joyous peal of laughter and there he was, the enchanted-sword master in all his glory. _You want him to be powerful but not overly-intimidating." She told the little girl, who muttered something about peals of laughter and continued to scribble.

Then the girl hopped off the bed and walked over to peer around the younger child's head at her paper. Pitch retreated farther back into the shadows so that she wouldn't notice him.

"There," she said, nodding her head approvingly, curly blonde locks waving like strands of golden sea weed. "That's better. And you misspelled _boisterous_."

Again the younger girl ignored her, though Pitch could see her pencil flip in her hand as she erased something. Probably her misspelled word.

The elder girl, she had to be at least a teenager, probably fifteen or so, backed off and stretched her arms, turning around in a quick circle before coming to rest right in front of Pitch and allowing him to see her face fully. She was much older than he had first taken her for, Pitch realized. Closer to seventeen than fifteen, but her height and demeanor had made her appear younger. She also looked just the slightest bit over-weight, judging by bunches visible beneath the back of her shirt.

"Alright Piper," the girl said, glancing out at the window before lowering her arms and popping her shoulders happily. "I think we've had enough for tonight. It's almost morning and even great authoresses need their sleep. Me included." She punctuated this with a yawn.

The younger girl stood up and mimicked her yawn. "Boy am I tired." She said to herself. "I haven't written that much in a long time." She paused, glancing at her paper, then shrugged and turned towards her bed. "Hm. Guess it was just a good streak." She muttered, reaching out for the blankets on her bed.

During this time, Pitch had already faded back through the shadows and was resting outside again, watching the two girls with a small smile on his face as the younger went to get in bed_. I think this nightmare can be saved for another night, _he thought. _I've got other things to do._ He turned to leave, glancing behind him one last time at the tired little girl and the strange young woman. The older girl was still standing behind her. He expected her to move out of the way so that the little girl could get in bed, and it looked like she was about to move but she was too slow and the little girl's arm-

_Went...right...through...her._

Pitch's eyes popped open and before he could stop himself he blurted out, "You're a spirit!"

He saw a flash of blonde curls as the girl's head snapped up, her wide green eyes darting around the room for the source of his voice until her eyes finally alighted on him. Frightened green locked with surprised gold and black eclipse eyes and Pitch could've sworn her hair turned red at the tips, but his attention was quickly diverted from it by the little girl who had also glanced up upon hearing his voice.

Only, instead of looking at him with fear as the elder young woman was, the little girl had a delighted smile on her face. "Boogeyman!" She cried in delight, running towards him with her arms outstretched. The other girl saw this as an opportunity to run and also began to cross the room, but at a much quicker pace.

Pitch looked from the one girl to the other in a panic. What should he do?! He was being charged by what was evidently a fan, while there was also a new spirit he had never seen before right there in front of him and trying to escape before he could even speak to her! Curiosity mingled with shock and confusion in his mind and before he could actually think about his decision, black nightmare sand shot from his hand in the direction of both girls.

The younger girl was hit just before she reached him and as the sand took hold and she slipped into unconsciousness she stumbled, then fell into Pitch's arms. But Pitch was too busy watching in utter astonishment as the girl in ink-stained blue jeans dodged the bolt of sand while still running, then leaped into the air and with a twist of her body, she transformed into an elegant black raven and zoomed back his right ear and out into the night with a caw of triumph.

The second he felt the rush of wind across his face and realized she was gone he leaped into motion, setting the little girl down on her bed gently and turning off the light before turning towards the window again. Then he doubled back and pulled the blankets over the sleeping child. Just for good measure.

_She can't have gone far, _he thought, letting out a whistle to summon one of his Nightmares which promptly appeared and offered itself to its master. It was Onyx, his best and strongest. Pitch grabbed her shadowy mane and swung up into the saddle, nudging her with his heels. "Let's go girl!" He knew he had no hope of catching this strange raven spirit on foot, and now his heart burned with curiosity as he took off into the rapidly brightening sky. He _had _to find her.

Barely a few minutes before he set out he caught a flash of black out of the corner of his eye and he wheeled his steed about to face that direction. There, ahead of him! There was a glint of moonlight on the back of something's wings.

"Wait!" He called out, nudging Onyx after it, hoping that it was the raven-girl and not just a common bird. "Wait, I'm a friend!"

He got no response and continued to chase after her, questions searing into his mind. Who was she? What kind of spirit was she? How old was she? He hadn't met a new spirit in many many long years and that fact cast a net of excitement and curiosity over the part of his mind that regulated common sense. He felt a profound urge to find her, talk to her, ask her questions. He didn't know it, but this was also the same sensation Jack felt that pushed him into ninety percent of the trouble he had gotten into in his three hundred years.

Pitch scanned the horizon again and- _There! _This time it was to the east, heading to the edge of town. She was just close enough for him to see her as a black splotch against the now glowing sky. He spurred Onyx harder, leaning into her neck to make her more aerodynamic and called out again. "Wait, please! I just want to talk to you! I'm a spirit too!"

Suddenly, the raven stopped in mid-air, flapping her wings steadily to keep her aloft. Pitch took this as a good sign and flew even faster, continuing to call out, "I just want to talk! Please, wait for me!"

They were about thirty feet away from each other now, the length allowing him to clearly see the color of her eyes which were dark green and narrowed. She opened her beak and a very disconcerting human voice came out loud and clear. But it wasn't an answer he wanted.

"Go away."

Pitch leaned back, forcing his Nightmare to halt. She skidded for a few feet, then stood still in midair, hot breath snorting from her nostrils. "Please," he called, hoping that by not being chased, she might be more inclined to come down to him and talk of her own free will. "I'm a spirit too. My name is Pitch Black, and I'm the Boogeyman."

On reflection, this might not have been the best thing to say. Plenty of people in the spirit world still hadn't grown accustomed to his change of sides and still thought him a dark demon, and evidently this girl was one of them because she let out a caw of shock and took off into the night sky, flying straight up towards the skies.

Pitch swore and urged his steed forward and up, cursing himself for an idiot. What sane spirit, if they didn't keep up with the current news of the spirit realm, would stop and talk to someone who identified himself as the _Boogeyman? _"None, that's who." He growled, gripping her mane tightly. "And now I've probably lost her. Damn! Faster!" He urged Onyx.

Onyx let out a whinny of protest as the rough treatment of her mane, but followed orders and soon they were streaking across the sky like a black shooting star, rising higher and higher until they had cleared the treetops. The hoofbeats of his mount thundered across the sky, though they made not a single sound as he scanned the horizons for a flash of black wings against the dawn. He looked north, south, east and west but could find no trace of her. He circled the whole town, searching every nook and cranny and even peeking in a few windows, but there was nothing.

After a long and physically exhausting search and as the sun rose above the mountains, Pitch had to admit defeat. He halted his horse on the very same rooftop he had attempted to speak with Manny on, then wheeled Onyx around and, with a single grudging look at the town, headed back home to his lair, thinking of that strange raven-girl all the while.

_I'll find her again, _he thought as he dismounted Onyx right outside his lair entrance and slipped through the shadows, traveling without pause to his bedroom. He was sure of it.


	3. The Life Of A Purple-Haired Weirdo

**Hey guys, I'm back. And holy crap It has been a while since I've posted. But I will not apologize for that because honestly, things have been soaring for me! Seriously, I'm getting to see more of my friends and family, my writing is getting better and better, and I'm a lot less tired and irritable about the lack of reviews. **

**Pitch: I call bull on that last one.**

**Me: OK, maybe. But still, I am back and ready to see your response to this next chapter. It's a big one, very important to the story so if I were you I wouldn't glance over any of the paragraphs- Fanty! -otherwise you might miss stuff that might be important in later chapters. I'm gonna try to keep my weekend update schedule, but I don't think that's gonna happen this coming weekend. However, I will try.**

**Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers on the last two chapters, I really appreciate them more than you can know because it gives me more fuel to keep also gives me feedback, which is what I really look forward to when I update. Because it's from you awesome guys that I get my ideas and, even though I don't respond a lot, I'm here to let you know I really do read them and appreciate them.  
**

**Alright, that's enough blubbering from me. Hope you guys like it!**

* * *

Of all the things I thought I would be doing that day, running from the Boogeyman _wasn't _one of them.

The day had started out like any other. I woke up from another one of my irritatingly obscure dreams with a jump, bumped my head and swore. Nothing new or unusual there. The cause for my bumping my head was, of course, the low ceiling of my 'room'. And the swearing was just common-place, no matter how much Cupcake had tried to steer my linguistics towards more tasteful verbiage.

This time my opening word to greet the day was, "Bollix!"

I heard the door of my room creak open and a wide face with sleepy eyes and unkempt spiky brown hair peeked around the doorframe. "You alright there Meggie?"

I glanced up. It was Cupcake, of course. Who else? "I'm fine," I grumbled, pushing my hair which had turned a dark blue in response to my annoyance out of my face so that I could better see the room around me. "Just that damn shelf again."

Cupcake opened the door fully, spilling light into the room through the window to her left. "_Again?_" She repeated, folding her arms and staring at the offending wooden plank mere inches above my head. "You know, if this keeps up I'm going to take it out. I'm sick of seeing you getting black eyes, just from getting up in the morning!"

As she spoke I wrapped my tired, aching fingers around the bars on either side of me that framed my bed and pulled slowly, using them to propel my body as I slid forward, careful to not bump my head again. The shelf itself was only about a foot wide and once I cleared that, I was able to sit up. I was met with a faceful of sunlight and flinched, throwing up my hands and hissing like a wet cat.

"It burns! It burns us!" I cried, my voice dry and scratchy, matching the owner of the line I was quoting perfectly. "If freezes! Get it away, get it away!" Then I peeked through my fingers.

Cupcake was rolling her eyes and gave me an unimpressed look. "Knock it off," she told me, using that mothering tone she knew I hated, but she continued to use anyway because she thought it would be good to have somebody looking out for me, even if I was self-destructive by nature. "You're no more allergic to sunlight than vampires sparkle."

I made a face as my fingers fell at the mention of _that _book. "Some books just should not be made into movies," I muttered, standing up and stretching, though in the limited space of Cupcake's closet that was quite a feat and I had to make some pretty extensive shifts in my ligaments to stretch as much as I wanted.

Cupcake nodded. "Agreed." She backed out of the doorway, allowing me room to walk forward and out into her room. As soon as the warm air hit me I yawned massively, my jaws cranking open and then shut like the maw of a great sharp-toothed creature. Cupcake raised an eyebrow. "What time did you get in last night?" She asked, smiling at me.

I shrugged and yawned in response, though this one was slightly quieter and I didn't have to open my mouth as wide. "Eleven -ish." I told her, though in reality it had been closer to one or two in the morning. I yawned again. "Though if this keeps up I think ten's going to have to be my limit. Damn am I tired!"

She snorted. "Like you could stick to it if you gave yourself a bedtime." Cupcake told me, smirking as if she didn't believe I could do it if my life depended on it.

I pretended to look offended, letting my mouth drop open in outrage and an indignant gasp escape my lips. "Oh! I resent your implications young lady!" I told her in that hoity-toity manner that most rich and privileged people use. "Are you _suggesting _that I could not maintain the self-control of going to bed at an appointed time?"

She gave me a deadpan look. "Yes." She replied flatly.

I shrugged. "Well, you're right. I probably couldn't." I admitted with a smile.

Cupcake laughed. "Go brush your hair," she advised, turning away from me but I could see the smile still playing around her chubby cheeks. "It looks like a rat's nest."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh and yours looks any better, little hedgehog?" I mocked.

She turned back and punched me in the shoulder. "Hey, that's _miss _little hedgehog to you lady!" She told me, and her voice was so prissy and up-tight that I had to laugh. I loved this little back and forth banter that had sprung up between us. It made me feel like we were more sisters than just friends. Yep, things had certainly changed in the three months of my living here. And I don't mind telling you, they had changed for the better.

In just three short months I had lived here I had gone from a confused, beat-up teenager with no memories, no personality and no idea where she was or why she was here to a strong girl with new memories and a personality that was hard as rock, tough as nails, and with a wit sharp as a razorblade. And Cupcake was a big part of that.

Actually, scratch that. She was the reason for almost all of it. And I owed her a lot. She had taken me in like an adoptive sister, helped me when no one else could. And that was a debt I could never repay to her.

"Nice kid." I leaned forward to tousle her hair gently, but as my fingers connected with her hair a little static shock went through me and, for a split-second, I saw an image ghost in front of my eyes. A little girl with greasy blonde hair, sitting at an old-looking computer, her hands poised to start typing feverishly. I pulled my hand back, blinking the image away.

"Meggie?"

I looked up. Cupcake was giving me that look again. The _I can tell something wrong with you so spill already _look. "Yeah? What's up kiddo?" I asked, blinking again and trying to look natural. The gap between her eyebrows and the bridge of her nose was wrinkled. She had seen.

"You look like you're thinking about something depressing."

I smiled. For all her voluminous vocabulary skills, she was not one to mince words. "No," I replied, stretching my arms up over my face to hide its expression. Those dreams... they were starting to scare me. Over and over again, the same ones. The girl typing, the glowing book, and... I was sure there was a third one, but I could not remember it. "Nothing depressing. Just...another weird dream."

Cupcake frowned. "Another one?" She asked.

I rubbed my face with my hands, trying to push away the sleepiness from my eyes. "Yes Cupcake, another one." I groaned, then dropped my hands back into my lap and smiled. "You'd think the Sandman would've gotten the message that I don't get it already."

Cupcake nodded sagely. "Next time I see him, I promise I'll tell him to stop sending you them." She told me with a completely serious face.

I rolled my eyes. Right. Cupcake's imaginary friends again. The Guardians, or whatever she called them. She had been trying to get me to believe in these guys since that first night when she had told me about the man in the moon. I didn't, of course. Santa Clause, a Russian? Get real. But I let her think I believed in them, and that was the important part. Which was why, when she told me she would ask the Sandman to stop sending these dreams to me, I simply nodded and said, "You do that kiddo."

Cupcake smiled, none the wiser and walked over to her dresser where she started opening the top drawer. She pulled out a clean t-shirt and a pair of jeans. "I can't believe it's been three months already," she told me as she began to change. "Time sure flies, huh?"

I nodded, turning away to look outside. It was an icy January morning. A thin blanket of snow rested on the windowsill and I could see nothing but glimmering white laid out over the landscape, covering the houses like some mad baker had dumped a million bags of powdered sugar down on us, turning Burgess from a normal town to a winter wonderland. "Yeah," I murmured. "Time flies."

Once Cupcake had finished getting dressed, she turned around and beamed at me. I smiled back. She was wearing the typical black skull shirt and pink tutu, but today she had jazzed it up a bit with a set of pink skull earrings that swung like church bells when she moved. "What do you think?" She asked.

I smirked. "You look like a mix between barbie and Jack Skellington's wife," I told her.

She beamed. "Perfect!" Then she did a little twirl. "And the skirt?"

I gagged theatrically. "Sickeningly pink as always."

She chuckled. "You still don't like it do you?" She asked, smiling at me. She obviously meant the color.

I rolled my eyes. "No, I do not. And how _you, _of all people,can like a color that is reminiscent of pig intestines astounds me."

She made a face. "Great, now I'll think I'm wearing pig guts every time I wear this," she complained, shaking her tutu out as if she expected said entrails to fall out from between the folds.

I chuckled darkly. "My mission in life has been fulfilled." Then I frowned, wondering why I was so grouchy today.

Evidently Cupcake was thinking the same thing because she raised an eyebrow and asked, "Jeez who pissed in your cheerios this morning?"

I fought hard not to chuckle. _OK, point scored there kiddo. _"Nobody." I said.

She chuckled. "Ah, Nobody. Bit of a jerk, that guy. I've had to drive him off with a stick several times."

I gave her a withering look, though in actuality I was trying hard to not laugh. She had that effect on me, even when I was in the foulest of moods, which was common in mornings. I was _not _a morning person, that was evident from my first week of staying here, but even when I was at my nastiest she seemed to find a way to make me smile.

She chuckled as I rose to my feet. Something that I had been meaning to tell her for some time had suddenly popped into my head. "In other news, I think I've got this flying thing down."

Her eyes immediately lit up. "Really?" She squealed, rushing over to me. Her eyes were practically glowing auburn with excitement.

I nodded. "Yep. I've been going out every night since last month. The first three nights were a little tricky, but after that I managed to get the hang of it pretty well." Well, close enough. I had still hit quite a few trees the last time I had gone out. It had been dusk! I wasn't used to flying in partial light! But I didn't tell her that.

Cupcake's eyes were nearly the size of dinner plates. "Will you show me?" She begged. "Please please please?"

I rolled my eyes. I had known this was coming, of course. Cupcake wouldn't let me keep something to myself if my life depended on it! And it would break her little heart if I didn't fly, at least a little. "Alright," I finally agreed, thinking, _gods forbid she ever gets any superpowers. If she does, it'll probably be the eyes of guilt-trippage or something like that. _"Alright, I'll show you."

Cupcake erupted into a fit of piglet-like squeals of glee. "Yay! I get to see you flying I get to see you flying!" She chanted, making me smile. It always gratified me to see a child happy.

"If," I interrupted, raising a finger that instantly stopped her dancing. "You give me an extra chicken thigh next time your mom gets KFC."

Her face instantly turned sour. "Oh come on!" She complained, hunching her shoulders and pouting at me from underneath that shaggy mop of hair. "I gave you an extra leg the last time!"

I folded my arms, resigned to my price. "Thigh for fly, or no dice short stuff." I replied firmly.

Cupcake continued to pout for a few seconds before she relented. "Fine," she grumbled reluctantly, then she smiled. "Just please show me your flying! Please please please!"

I chuckled. Success. Then, with a single thought I began to rise up through the air. Slowly at first, then faster and faster until my head had almost hit the ceiling where I arched my head and shoulders back and slid along the ceiling like a fish, moving as smoothly as I could. When I reached the middle of the room I rolled over onto my back and stared down at Cupcake who was staring open-mouthed in utter awe at me through my long purple hair. "Good?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrows.

She nodded emphatically. "That's better than good," she told me, grinning and running over to me, reaching up with her hands to take mine. "This is better than anything I've seen you do yet! You've never hovered for this long!"

I nodded, bonking my head in the process but I ignored it. Her chipperness was infectious. "I know, I know! I tried it last night and in open air I can hover for up to five minutes!" Then I dropped to the ground like a bat, grinning with her hands clasped in mine. "And my control has gotten much better! Look!" I was almost as excited as she was, so excited that I didn't actually reach the ground before I started rising again, this time taking Cupcake with me!

Cupcake squealed and kicked her little booted feet like a first-time swimmer as soon as she felt herself rising but I held her tightly.

"It's OK," I told her quickly. I could feel the tension in her arms as she hung from mine and her eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and excitement. "Just relax. I'm gonna try to fly us both, but it'll only be a few feet. The worst you'll get is a bruise if you fall."

She nodded, the fear slowly filtering out of her eyes. "OK," she told me breathlessly as I pulled her higher and higher up off the ground. "OK. I'm just so excited!"

I smiled. "I can tell." I replied. All the previous annoyance and irritation had gone from my mind as soon as I had seen that face light up with happiness. "Now, be careful." I warned her. "This is where it starts to get a little tricky." We were a good two feet off the ground now, hanging in mid-air like a pair of mismatched Christmas ornaments. Cupcake was still hanging slightly from my hands but I was standing with my feet flat, as if I were standing on glass. For a few seconds. Then I tilted myself forward and allowed my feet to rise, turning me from vertical to horizontal in a few seconds.

"What're you doing?" Cupcake asked, looking from me to the ground. I could tell she was nervous again.

"You'll see," I replied, willing myself to move forward. My control over my flying was...sketchy at best. But I still had enough control to keep myself steady. "Switch me hands kiddo."

Cupcake frowned, then did as I asked, taking her right hand and slipping it into my right instead of my left. She hadn't noticed we were moving forward yet. I used her momentary switching of hands to turn her around so that she was facing away from me, and when I did that she realized what I was doing.

"Meggie wait-"

"Too late short stuff." I told her, smirking as I began to pick up speed. We were heading for the open window. "You wanted to fly, so here..."

"No no no nonononono-"

We were a foot from the window and I tensed, ready to swerve if I coulnd't make it. "We..."

"No no NO MEGGIE please no!"

"GO!" I shouted, yanking Cupcake up into my arms just a split second before her legs hit the window and ducking my head so that I shot straight out of the window like a violet torpedo out into the open sky. At first, all I could see was a blinding white in place of Cupcake's familiar dark room, but then the white cleared form my eyes and I saw below us the tiny town that had become my home. Burgess. I smiled as I soared past the roofs of houses. Flying, the second amazing sensation I had ever experienced. Even if I didn't know exactly how it worked, it was a magical feeling, and I was glad to have it.

Wind whistled through mine and Cupcake's hair as we soared upwards. Cupcake was still squealing like a little piglet, but eventually she calmed down and started enjoying herself.

"HIGHER!" She yelled, waving her boot-clad feet as I banked left to avoid a forest of green tree branches. "Higher Meggie higher!"

I smirked. "Alright kid, you asked for it." I told her, then without warning I arched my body and ascended straight up, past the houses and the trees until all we could see were white, puffy clouds and bright robin's egg blue sky stretching on forever. There I stopped, hovering gently among the warm sunlight and soft clouds in order to soak in all the beauty around me. To the east, mountains. To the south, open ocean. The west held trees with winding roads between them that led to the next town and to the east, nothing but a vast expanse of green, open land. I lifted Cupcake up a little so that she could see what I saw.

"Isn't it beautiful?" I asked her quietly, happiness brimming in my chest as I saw her eyes widened in utter reverence.

"It's..." She couldn't speak, she was so over-whelmed. "It's like a whole other world."

I nodded, my eyes lingering on the rolling hills that looked like something out of Heidi and the ocean glittering in the distance, sunlight cresting off of breaking waves. A whole other world. A world without grimy cars and smoke clogging up the skies. A world where glimmering mirrors reflected far-off and distant lands. Yes, it was a whole other world. My world. And I was glad to be able to share it with her.

After a few more minutes of staring I felt the tell-tale signs of tiredness start to take hold of my system. My eyelids started to grow heavy and my grip on Cupcake's arms started to waver. I quickly told Cupcake that it was time to get her home, that I was getting tired and it might be dangerous to stay aloft for very much longer. She agreed, though I could hear the reluctance in her voice, but she knew what my limits were and she also knew what would happen if I tried to surpass those limits.

We quickly returned to her room where I let her down slowly, making sure her feet touched the floor before I collapsed on her bed, breathing like I had just run a mile. "You'd better...get ready...for school kiddo." I told her through my labored breathing.

Cupcake, her cheeks still flushed with the excitement of the flight, smiled. "No need, it's a late start today." She told me happily. "So I don't have to go to school for another half hour!"

I rolled my eyes, taking a few more deep breaths before I raised my body up into a seated position. "I still don't understand why they let you sleep in for an hour on only one school day a week," I told her. The springs groaned beneath my weight as I shifted to a more comfortable position but I ignored them. "It would make more sense to start school later, then keep you guys later. That way you would get more sleep and more time for writing."

Cupcake nodded, bending down to re-lace her boots which had come undone during the flight. _It's a miracle she didn't lost one of them, _I thought. "Yeah, that's what I've been telling Jaime and the others." She replied. "But they don't care. They're just happy to have the extra hour of sleep." Then she snorted, standing back up. "And I honestly can't blame them."

I smiled. "Me neither." I admitted. "If I slept as much as regular people do, I probably would enjoy it too."

It was Cupcake's turn to roll her eyes. "If you slept any more than you already do you wouldn't ever wake up again!" She told me, chuckling.

We both laughed and Cupcake started for the door. "Alright, I'm gonna go get breakfast. You want anything?" She called over her shoulder.

I shook my head. "Nah, I'm good." I called back. Then I smirked. "But if you're mom's brewed coffee, can you steal me a cup?"

She was half-way out the door but I could still hear her voice, loud and clear as the door swung shut behind her. "Oh hell no! I can barely stand you now there is no way you are getting any caffeine! Not after the last time!"

I smirked. The last time I had experienced the warm, brown goodness of coffee, I had been bouncing off the walls for a _week! _"Meh, you're no fun!"

XXXXXXXX

I spent the majority of the day while Cupcake was at school on her bed, reading. This wasn't too unusual. It was how I spent most of my days actually, when I wasn't practicing with my powers or walking around the streets of my new hometown. Cupcake's room provided peace and solitude for me, away from the hustle and bustle of the outside world. A place for me to think aloud, where no one would judge me.

Not that anybody would, what with me being invisible to nearly everybody in this town that wasn't a child and all.

But, regardless, I spent the majority of the day reading and napping intermittently between chapters. At lunchtime I stole a sandwich from the kitchen, and didn't move from her bed until Cupcake got home. When she did, her face was red and she looked like a while pile of snow had been dumped on her.

I raised an eyebrow, looking up from my book. "Someone push you in a snowdrift?" I asked, smiling.

She laughed, throwing her coat on the ground. "No, just had a snowball fight on the way home." She dumped her backpack on the ground beside her bed and shook her head. droplets of water flew all over the room and I slid the book under my arm to shield it. "Jeez, Jamie got me good with that last one!" She exclaimed, feeling the back of her head.

I chuckled. Though I had never met them in person, Cupcake's friends had been a constant topic of conversation between us. She told me almost everything about them, from their hair colors to who they were thinking about asking to the spring dances. But, strangely, she never actually brought any of them over to meet me. Not that I _minded_. Honestly, I would prefer it if less people that knew of my existence. I didn't know why- normally I'm quite a boisterous person. Cupcake calls me an attention hog and, to be honest, I kind of am. But only around people I know and like. Which...where aren't many.

Once Cupcake had rid herself of her wet clothes, she sat down at her computer and pulled up the missing person's bookmark on her toolbar. I followed, sitting down in the other chair and watching intently as the screens flicked past me. Screens full of blank, cold faces staring back at me with captions beneath, reading things like: If spotted, please call blah blah blah, and: missing- presumed dead. The missing children of the world. Hundreds- no, _thousands _of them. And not one of them was me.

"Anything new?" I asked.

She took a moment to assess the words, then shook her head. "No, I'm sorry Meggie."

I leaned back in my chair, trying not to sigh. It didn't surprise me, not after three months of fruitless looking. "It's OK," I told her, glancing out the window idly. The sky was a flush of pink, yellow, orange and fiery red as the sun's last dying rays splayed out across the vast expanse as it sank beneath the mountains that lay in the far distance. The clouds were nearly glowing with radiance, but there was still a hint of darkness encroaching in on them. "You should be hitting the bricks anyway."

Cupcake frowned, glancing at her clock. "It's not even eight yet!" She objected. "Can't I stay up for a little bit longer?"

She started giving me those wide puppy-dog eyes but I shook my head. "Nope." I folded my arms firmly. "You've got school tomorrow, and I'm not going to listen to you complain to your mom about how you're falling asleep in class again."

She frowned as if searching her memories. "When did I do that?" She asked puzzled.

I rolled my eyes. "Last week. Your mom got a paper saying that you had gotten a detention and you started complaining about how you had been over-working yourself and falling asleep in class. So she told you to go to bed earlier."

She nodded. "Ah. Now I remember."

I nodded in return and gestured to her blankets. "Good. Now get in bed."

Cupcake did as I asked her to, but as soon as I made to turn off the lights she asked, "Can you tell me a bedtime story?"

I rolled my eyes. Of course she wanted a story. This was another one of the dances we went through almost every night. For some reason, she thought my ability to tell stories was something special. Something _magical_, as she called it. I didn't put much stock in magic- though I knew there had to be a reason I was able to do all that I could. Which was why, when she asked for a story I knew she would get it. But I tried to defend my ground as best I could.

"Didn't we just go over this?" I asked her, putting my hands on my hips. "You need to go to sleep."

But Cupcake was bound and determined to get a story, and she proved it by pulling out the big doe eyes which she knew I was completely powerless against.

After a few seconds of stare-down I sighed and conceded defeat. "Alright, fine. What kind of story do you want?"

Cupcake shrugged, pulling the covers up until they reached her chin. "I don't know. You're the silvertongue," she told me. "You decide."

I smiled. Silvertongue. A jab at my choice in names, though not really a cruel jab. More of a polite joke. "Very well." I took a moment to think. Out of all the gifts that I had learned I possessed and those I still did not know about, my love of story-telling was one I had taken the most pride in. "Would you like a short one, or a long one?" I asked her.

She shrugged. "Short will do. I'm probably not gonna last long anyway."

I nodded. "Alright." And I thought for a moment, then I began. "Here and attend and listen, all those who wish to hear my tale." I always began my bedtime stories to her like this. I'm not sure why. "Once, a long time ago, a little girl met a fairy in her dreams."

"Make it a unicorn," Cupcake mumbled. I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was already getting sleepy.

"Am I telling the story or are you?" I demanded, a little annoyed with her.

She let out a low moan-like noise but didn't respond.

"Now, this little girl, whose name was Maria, met a fairy in her dreams. And in the morning she woke up and asked her mother, 'Momma, why do we only see fairies in our dreams?' And the mother answered, 'Because that's just the way things are.' But Maria wasn't very satisfied with this answer. So, being a child that was naturally curious, Maria decided to sneak out at night and try to find a fairy."

"Where did she go?" Cupcake asked.

"Into the forest outside her village." I replied. "Now hush."

She nodded but remained silent.

"So, that night, she went out into the forest and sat among the trees, waiting for one of the unseen folk to see her. For hours and hours she waited, until finally the darkness proved to be too much for her and she fell asleep at the roots of a wise old oak tree which protected her during the night. But night in a forest is very busy, and as soon as the sun sank beneath the trees all manner of spirit and fairy came out to play, frolic and dance in the merry nightly festival."

The words flowed from my lips like water over smooth rocks, painting a gorgeous picture of a medieval forest crawling in fairies and sprites, sprigands and dryads, each with a singular look all their own and all dancing beneath a gorgeous full moon, so detailed that I felt as if we were there, right now, resting in the forest glade while the fair folk danced around me. I smiled. I truly did have a gift.

I continued, trying to draw the story out as long as possible and knowing that Cupcake couldn't last much longer. "Now, humans don't normally enter the forest after dark, and because she was so small the fairies almost didn't notice her at first. They were too preoccupied with dancing and feasting on nettle wine, berries and mushrooms, all cooked up by the fire spirits that came down when the sun met the mountains. All, except one. Her name was Shiryidan, a light fairy whose skin shone as brightly as the fireflies to which she was kin, and captain of the dawn-watchers. She had vibrant red hair that glimmered with the life and gentle glow of fire, and wore a tiny gown made from flower petals which rustled as she shifted on her perch."

Cupcake made a little moaning noise and I had known her long enough to recognize it was a question. Probably what kind of flower petals.

"The petals were crimson red, just like her hair, with smatterings of yellow and orange sprayed across like the speckles on a robin's egg, for they too were her kin and had gifted her with their red-crested wings which she used to fly up to the top of the trees and warn the fairies below that the dawn was approaching so that they would have time to hide themselves before the sun broke over the trees."

Cupcake made a satisfied moaning noise.

"Good. Now, from her perch up in the high trees, Shiryidan could see far as an eagle in all directions, including down. Which was where she happened to glance, out of sheer boredom and jealousy. The dawn was hours away, and yet she was not allowed to join her friends and dance among them or feast or sing. It annoyed her and she clenched her fists angrily, watching the gorgeous butterflymen dancing with the frivolous dandelion sprites. What fun they were having. Without her." I paused, checking once again to see if she was asleep. This time, she was.

I smiled. "End of chapter one." I said quietly under my breath, reaching forward to pull the blankets up a little higher until she was resting like a sleeping baby. Once I was satisfied, I glanced out the window. Warm candle-light from the street lamps outside cast a glow that spilled through the open window and onto the floor, mixing with the moonlight already pouring in to create a soft carpet of light at my feet. The night was wearing on, and if I wanted to take my nightly flight I had to hurry.

"Sleep well," I told her, though I knew she could not hear me, and with that I departed via the window.

We had developed a tolerable relationship, the window and me, in the last three months. Initially I had hated even _looking _at the thing, since it gave me vertigo, but once I discovered my more...shall we say _gravity-challenging _powers, I grew to regard the window as more of a front door than a window. I mean, it's not like I could just casually stroll down the corridor and out the front door whenever I wanted to leave, especially at night.

Don't get me wrong I had _tried_, several times, but it just _never_ worked. Either too many people were walking through the hall or somebody saw me turn the knob and open the door, leading Cupcake's family to believe they were haunted.

And, while it was extremely fun to scare the living daylights out of her parents by causing things to move that, by their definition shouldn't, Cupcake had expressly made me promise to keep my mischief-making _outside _the house.

_Sadly_, I thought at I soared through the brilliantly illuminated night sky. During my story, the sky had transformed from a bright bar of glowing radiance, filled with thousands of shades and colors to a single sheet of deep mauve that encompassed the entire sky, broken only by the little diamond-like stars that were scattered across the vast expanse. The sun was completely gone, though there were still subtle hints of pink shining off the edges of the fluffy clouds. It was so dark that I was forced to rely on the sixth sense I had developed pre-memory loss to navigate the darkness.

_Cupcake might be right about me being part cat, _I thought idly as the wind begun lifting me up higher than the treetops and I angled myself downward. I began to drop. Cool wind rushed past my face, streaming thin fingers through my hair as I blasted down through the sky, just as quickly as I had risen. Unfortunately, I was dropping so fast that I could barely see more than a few feet in front of me and nearly ran into a bird several times. _Though if I was, I'd probably be a little more graceful than this._

I had learned about my flying a little bit later than I had all my other abilities. It was one of my more...useful talents. Not only was it helpful for getting around and gave me a lot of time to think, but it was also a very good way for me to exercise that insatiable urge for independence that had been one of the more annoying things I had learned of in the last three months. Changing was the other way, but flying gave me a singular feeling that even _changing _couldn't compete with.

It had happened nearly entirely by chance. Cupcake had been leaning out of her balcony and slipped on the snowflakes that littered the ground. Before I knew what I was doing I had sprung across the room, dove out the window and grabbed her, thankfully _before _she or I had hit the ground. Cupcake had been, of course delighted with the emersion of even more powers to add to the list, and had immediately started coaching me. Within a month, I was flying across the room and even taking her out for short flights, ten minutes at a time.

I smiled as I turned my body as graceful as a bird, sucking in my stomach as I passed through a narrow gap between a tree and a fence-line. "Whoohooooo!" I whooped, zooming past a couple of startled alley cats that leaped off their garbage cans, hissing and spitting at me. "Sorry!" I called to them. "But that's what you get for sitting on trashcans!"

I banked hard to avoid a snow-covered tree and started moving slower_. Enough sky-larking, _I thought, heading back towards town. _Or I'm gonna get myself killed. _

In truth, I was not sure why I went out every night once Cupcake's head hit the pillow. I had started almost as soon as I had woken up from my first change. No one knew about it, not Cupcake, not her sister, nobody. At least, I don't think Cupcake knew. And even if she did, she couldn't stop me. I was a free spirit, and she knew it.

I sighed as I flew through the night. _More spirit than free, it seems._

Then I shook my head. "Now, knock that off!" I ordered myself, dodging a house by a few inches and alighting on a rooftop with my knees bent and my hands places on the roof to keep myself from falling. I was sure I looked like some kind og cathedral gargoyle. "Just because we haven't found any evidence as to who I am, that doesn't mean I'm-" My voice faltered. I swallowed, clenching my fists against the wooden roof shingles. "That doesn't mean I'm…dead."

This was another thought that had crossed my mind. Several times in fact. The thought that the reason we couldn't find anything…was because there wasn't anything to find. That I was dead, and this was my afterlife.

"No," I told myself firmly, shaking my head. "No. I'm _not_ dead." Then I glanced up at the moon which was hanging just above me like a spotlight, moonbeams shining down on me and turning my violet hair to a creamy mauve. "Am I?"

The moon offered no answer. It seems that Cupcake mysterious Man in the Moon didn't feel like talking to a lonely human.

I rolled my eyes as disappointment and exasperation washed over me, draining all traces of the purple that only was present in my hair when I was happy and turning it to what I assumed was blonde, but in the moonlight it looked almost white. What was I _doing_, trying to talk to Cupcake's imaginary friends? Was I _that_ desperate for answers that I would ask a glowing ball of cheese in the sky for help?

_There's nothing wrong with asking people for help, _that little voice inside my head chided me.

I bit back a sharp retort. My heart was still pounding from the flight and I had to take a few deep gulps of the sweet, cold night air before I could answer myself. "Well, I wouldn't define a floating hunk of rock as _people_," I said aloud, purely out of habit.

_Things can sometimes surprise you._

I had to chuckle at that. "Like, words to live by." I muttered, standing up and sliding down the east side of the roof smoothly. When I hit the rain gutter I did a somersault and hung, by my feet, from the rain gutter, looking into the window beneath the eaves of the house. For a big girl, I was surprisingly agile and flexible.

Inside the room behind the window, sitting at a desk remarkably like Cupcake's, was another little girl, maybe a year older than her, writing- or, from what I would see, _trying _to write. But every time she put her pencil to the lined paper, I assumed no inspiration was forthcoming because after a few seconds she let out a disgusted sigh and threw it down. Then she picked it back up again and the cycle began again.

I hmmed thoughtfully. Whatever she was writing _had _to be more interesting than just flying around idly for no reason. And I was bored. I didn't know what unexpected things were to come this night, nor the nights afterwards. I thought, in my infinite nievity, that tonight would be nice, quiet and peaceful. So, ignoring what little common sense I had and the fact that if she could see me too I was going to get called a pedophile for the _second _time in three months, I allowed my feet to slide free of the rain gutter, took a nastily rapid fall but managed to halt myself before I hit the ground, flew back up to her window and opened it.

The girl glanced up, frowning as I slipped inside. She stood and crossed the room to her window, peeking her head out of it and glancing right, then left. Then she shrugged and went back to her desk. I followed her, bending down to look over her shoulder at the paper on her desk.

**The Black Castle, **I read. **By Piper Fenrin.**

"Nice title." I murmured, scanning the only page that was visible.

Here's where shit got weird.

Instead of continuing on her disgusted sigh/pencil throwing work-ethic, Piper actually took a look at her pencil, then sat down and began to write.

I pulled up a chair, sat down and as she wrote, I watched her, commenting as I read through her new paragraphs and calling out some suggestions. After a few minutes, I began to notice that as I spoke, she would look back at the written sentences and sometimes erase whole words and add new ones in. At first I just dismissed this as coincidence. Then, as the night wore on I started seeing more clearly defined patterns. Every time I opened my mouth her head would rise just a fraction and turn slightly in my direction, as if she was listening to me, but she didn't give any other signs of acknowledgement to my existence.

Intrigued, I experimented a little more and, to my bewilderment, I discovered that she _could _in fact hear me, she just didn't know it was _me _talking to her.

I tried talking directly to her a few times, telling her about myself and my life, but it seemed unless it had to do with the story or was just idle chit-chat, she couldn't hear my words. This frustrated me, so I tried to touch her on the shoulder to get her attention, but my hand went right through her. As my hand made contact with hers and slipped through her flesh like oil on water, a jolt of cold fire ran up my arm like so many ice-cold snakes, burning my flesh with their frigid venom. I flinched back, rubbing my hand and glaring at her, though it wasn't her fault. I should've remembered that I could only touch Cupcake without feeling this weird and incredibly painful sensation.

I muttered a few choice curses as I rubbed feeling back into my hand. It had gone numb after the cold fire had engulfed it and it would take some time for the blood pumping in my veins and the color to return. I leaned back in my chair and sighed. This was getting me nowhere.

I tried every way I could think of to get her attention, including writing on her paper with a pencil, but the words vanished just as soon as I wrote them. I rolled my eyes. OK, now that was just annoying.

_So, I can't communicate with her, other than through the story. _I thought. Interesting, but of no use to me at present time. So I put it our of my mind and tried to focus on other things, telling myself that I would bring it up to Cupcake later tomorrow. I leaned forward once again, commenting on her choice of verbs which she took under advisement. Then I stood and stretched, glancing out the window as I did so. Time was getting on, and it would be dawn in a couple of hours. I needed sleep.

"Alright Piper," I told her, falling into the old habit of talking to those who couldn't hear me. "I think we've had enough for tonight. It's almost morning, and even great authoresses need their sleep. Me included." I yawned.

Piper dutifully repeated my words- well, the general meaning of the words, not the words themselves. That would've been spooky -and stood up. She turned off her light and moved towards her bed, evidently getting ready to go to sleep. I went to move out of the way but I was just a fraction too slow. My mind was on other things, contemplating the implications of what I had learned but as her hand brushed against my body I felt the coldness once more flare up.

I swore in my mind and I was about to say something highly unsavory aloud, but before a single word could escape my lips I heard an entirely different voice speaking. Not Pipers, not my own, not even the voice that only piped up inside my head when I was under great times of duress. It was a man's voice, that much I could tell immediately by the tone and smooth, if surprised, inflections.

"You're a spirit!"

My head snapped up upon hearing the voice and I glanced around the room for its owner. I found him, looking through the window at us. His hair was black and slightly longer than a normal man's cut, but it was slicked back in a weird spiky-style that made him look like a porcupine. In the brief flash of his face that I got before all hell broke loose, all I could see was a sickly ashen complexion and glowing golden eyes.

My own eyes widened, though not from fear or confusion. I had just realized something. _What the hell?! _How was he standing outside the window?! WE WERE ON THE SECOND STORY!

_Never mind that, _my brain told me as Piper also spoke, saying something in an excited tone that denoted she either recognized the strange man, or that she was curious about him. The words themselves were lost on me. I was too busy wondering what the hell was going on. Right now, just focus on getting the kid away from here safely.

Well, that plan was botched almost the second I thought of it. Piper was already moving towards the man, her arms outstretched. She obviously recognized him, but he didn't seem too pleased. He kept looking from her to me, as if unsure which of us to focus on. I narrowed my eyes. _He doesn't look like he wants to hurt me, _I thought, taking a step forward. _Maybe if I just try to talk to him..._

Bad move. The guy got spooked and shot some weird kind of blackish sand crap at both me and the kid. I ducked it out of instinct and when I straightened up, ready to rip the guy a new one for almost...doing whatever that sand stuff did, I noticed Piper slumped in his arms.

It was then I decided to say screw my morality- what little of it I had, and just book it before he got me too. I was furious, don't get me wrong and I really wanted to kick the guy's ass, but I knew form the look of him that he was much older than me and probably a lot stronger. The best thing I could do was run.

_Forget the kid, _I told myself as I bolted for the window. _Just get out of here safely and you can check up on her later!_

Good plan. Didn't _quite _work out that way.

Thankfully the guy didn't have the sense to try to catch me as I changed into the bird- a raven, and shot out the window. He was too surprised.

The change was one of the quickest I've ever attempted. I felt it coming on, even before I left the house. It was my instincts, as I had also learned in the last few months. My natural urge to protect myself, and this I could not to in my current state. So, instead of trying to control it, I simply submitted myself to it and allowed the change to wash over me like a tidal-wave of pain and radiance, taking hold of my body and morphing it in what felt like hours, but was in reality a single instant.

The sensations of the change are a bit hard to describe, as it differs from form to form, but the one thing that was constant during all my changes was the unrelenting feeling of pure, undulating _power _that coursed through my veins like life itself was lending me its strength. This was the first sensation I felt as I changed, rapidly followed by a slight amount of pain as my fingers- which were always the first thing to change, grew coal-black and flattened out until they became as feathers. The nails retracted back into my flesh and that stung a bit, but I ignored it.

The next thing to change was my head which shrank, followed by the rest of my body. This was where things started getting tricky, and I had to concentrate hard to keep myself steady as the change took place. This was the in-between stage, which always made me feel like a doll that was half-way through being made. The feeling quickly faded as my eyes changed shape a few seconds later, continuing the process.

I moaned with satisfaction as my arms shrank to a manageable size that fit my head and body. Sometimes the change sent feelings of intense relief through me, as if staying in my human form was taking a physical toll on me that I couldn't actually feet until I took a different shape. Now was one of those times. I exalted in the feeling as the last traces of my human body blew away, like sand on a lonely stretch out in the middle of the sea, smiling- even though technically ravens shouldn't be able to smile with beaks, and spinning around and around in utter joy.

Then I realized I was running for my life and stopped skylarking.

_Plenty of time for that when I'm safe, _I thought as I banked left. I was trying to get back to Cupcake's house as fast as I could before he caught up to me, and as I sped through the silent night, listening for signs of the man giving chance and hearing none, I thought I had done it.

I was wrong.

A few minutes later I heard him behind me, calling for me to stop. I ignored him, urging my wings to flap even harder. The night was flying past me in a blur of darkness and scattered moonlight, but my eyes caught enough to know that I was nearing the forest near Cupcake's house, where I could hide and he would never find me.

Maybe.

But...the more I thought about it...the more I realized that maybe going straight back home might not be the best idea for me. It would keep me safe, yes, but it might also lead the man, whoever he was, right to Cupcake and that might get her hurt. In spite of my irritation with her, I didn't want that.

So, without any warning I broke off of my current course and took a sharp left turn, heading bak into the trees where I knew he would chase me. He did, and I led him around the block a few times before I started to get tired. That was a bad sign, and since I was still quite a ways ahead of him I chose to finish this once and for all. I stopped, hovering in a small clearing about thirty or fourty feet off the ground, waiting for him to notice me. He called something about waiting for him, but I ignored him. I waited until I was close enough to see the color of his eyes.

_Colors, _I amended, watching him closely as I opened my beak. It was true. I hadn't been able to see it before, probably because of my less than night-worthy eyes, but now I could clearly see a small, miniscule circlet of silver surrounding the pupil. Huh. _Interesting. It looks like an eclipse._

"Go away." I told him, then started to fly off again. There, that should keep him off my back.

"Please, I'm a spirit too. My name is Pitch Black, and I'm the Boogeyman."

Evidently not.

I heard a rush of air behind me. He was coming. I let out a squawk of alarm and shot up into the sky, hoping that whatever means of transport he had, it wasn't able to rise quickly. I was right. With my speed and agility, I lost him again in a matter of minutes, but I didn't go back to Cupcake's house until about ten minutes later, when I was absolutely sure I wasn't being watched.

When I got there I alighted in the window softly, then- in an attempt to move gracefully that totally backfired I hopped down to the floor and landed with a muffled plonk.

"Ow," I muttered, shaking my head and ruffling my feathers to clear the tiredness from my brain, then I began hopping across the room towards my closet. With each hop I felt the body of the crow wilting around me. Feathers began to drop from my fingertips like leaves from a tree, and the dark pigment soon followed. I felt myself rising up, like a plant that was greedily soaking up sunlight after a long, cold winter. The sensation was vaguely like that of riding in an elevator. Of course, I had never ridden in an elevator, but I could guess that the feeling was the same.

By the time I had reached the closet door, I was back to my usual size and form. Although my hair was probably a few shades darker than normal. It tended to do that.

I stretched, popped a few things that needed popping, then glanced back at the window I had entered through. I decided to shut it for good measure. Just in case, by some magical occurrence, that he actually _did _follow me. As the shutter slid down and I latched it securely, my gaze drifted to the still-sleeping Cupcake. I smiled. She looked so peaceful, lying there with her hair splaying out in all directions of the pillow and her body tangled in a mass of sheets and blankets.

"Kiddo," I told her quietly. "You have no idea what I've been through tonight."

And then I went to bed.

XXXXXXXX

The morning dawned for Pitch Black quite late.

Living underground for most of his life, Pitch had developed his own personal chronometer that synced more with the temperature of his caves than the position of the sun. He was a night being by trade, and rarely went out in the daytime anyway, so it made sense in a kind of odd, roundabout sort of way. He could tell most days, simply by putting a hand out to feel the rock walls of his caves, just how warm or cold it was outside, and normally that told him a rough estimate of the time.

Of course he had several clocks in his home as well, including a giant grandfather clock in his bedroom, but through some unfathomable occurrence said clocks had all either been smashed, or needed to be rewound and he hadn't noticed it the night before. So, naturally, without his clocks to wake him up Pitch slept in rather later than he meant to, and it was nearly three in the evening before the Boogeyman blinked open his eyes and realized his error.

As can be expected he was not pleased with this turn of events. He swore, grumbled a little, then after a few minutes of silent procrastination he finally detached himself from his warm black satin sheets and stomped over to fix his clock. Once that was done he contemplated going back to bed, but it was too late in the day for that.

"I might not get up in time to start my rounds," he said to himself. He'd been late plenty of times before because of over-sleeping.

So, just to be on the safe side, he donned his customary black robe and set about making his bed. When that was done, he glanced around him. His room was a mess. There were pizza boxes, dirty robes, books and other paraphernalia scattered across the floor, so he set about cleaning and tidying up. Which took him all of five minutes. When he was done and everything was back in order, he left the caves and traveled around Burgess for a bit, just idly walking the streets and thinking about his recent dreams.

After the chaos of last night, Pitch had gone to bed absolutely exhausted. But his mind had refused to quiet down and rest easy. He tossed and turned all night, wondering over and over again who she was, what she was, where she had come from and why had he never heard or seen of her, and when he finally got to sleep his dreams were plagued with scenes that were full of smoke and hazy images that, in all honesty he did not recognize. They weren't memories from his own past or from Kozmotis's, he knew that much, and the fact that he kept seeing a face that looked somewhat like the raven-girl's blinking in and out of them only solidified it.

"But it wasn't her face," he told himself as he slowly walked down a main street sidewalk. It was...refreshing to walk, not glide or shadow-travel, down the street, especially in the early evening, what with the snow piled up on either side of the wet sidewalk and the gentle glow of street lamps above him. Even though there were humans out and cars speeding down the roads, he didn't mind them. He had grown so accustomed to the roaring or engines and the huffing and puffing of smoke that he was able to block it out, the way a mother blocks out her children's chatter. "It was...someone else's."

_But who's? _He wondered. Who indeed.

"She's some kind of spirit," he murmured as he walked down the street his mind jumping back to the other girl. "That much is obvious. But I can't shake the feeling that she's not _just _a Raven spirit." She hadn't first struck him as a raven spirit. Not with the way she helped the child with her writing. There had to be some kind of connection between her shape-shifting abilities, and her assisting the child.

But if there was, he couldn't think of it.

After a long while of walking, Pitch finally stopped outside Jamie Bennett's house. He glanced up at the window, saw there was a light on and decided to pay the boy a visit. He was a little tired of all these unanswered questions and, since Jaime had become a pretty reliable source of knowledge regarding spirits from spending a lot of time reading at the Pole, he thought that maybe he might have some ideas.

But when he reached the window and greeted the boy, he was met with wide, surprised eyes which quickly turned into a stony glare as he explained about what had happened last night.

"So you see Jamie," Pitch finished, ignoring the blank stare in his first believer's eyes. "I need to know who she is and if I can find her again, where?"

The boy remained quiet.

"I don't know why I have to find her," he told the boy earnestly, sitting down on the bed. "I really don't. It's just...a feeling." He raised his hand to his chest. "Like, somehow I knew her once, but I've forgotten about her." He paused, then smiled. "I know, crazy right?"

The boy still didn't say anything and this time, Pitch took notice.

"Jamie?" He asked, standing back up and crossing the room until he was towering over the boy. Then he bent down until he was at eye-level, looking- or, as least trying to look into Jamie's eyes but he either looked away or closed them. "Boy, what's wrong?"

But Jamie shut his mouth and refused to answer. Pitch tried everything to get him to answer, goading him, jibing him, laughing, speaking seriously, ordering, but nothing worked and a few minutes later, he decided to leave. He wouldn't be getting any answers out of Jamie just now, though he did wonder what on earth had gotten the boy so angry that he refused to speak.

_It must've been something pretty bad, _he thought as he strolled through the streets which were now coated in twilight glow and mist from the low-flying clouds. In the time he had been talking with Jamie, the day had gone from early evening to nearly night, and he really should be starting his rounds by now. Snow that he had passed on the way here was almost completely gone now, but he didn't doubt that Jack would be back on another run through of his favorite city, making sure to dust every square inch in snow.

"He does love this place," Pitch said to the empty air as he made his way through the dark. "Probably because his first believer lives here." Then he remembered, his did too. Which brought him back to the source of his current worries. "I wonder if Jack might know why Jamie's so upset." He mused. It was possible. The winter spirit tried to visit here as much as he could, not just to drop in on his newly dubbed grandfather and his first believer, but also to make sure Jamie's family was doing alright and that his friends were happy.

_He's a kind boy, _Pitch thought. _A little foolish at times, but a good boy. And that's just in Jack's nature, so I really can't fault him for that. _No, he really couldn't. But still, even if Jamie wouldn't talk to _him_, maybe it would help to get him to open up to Jack.

So, with that comforting thought in his mind and a mental note to tell Jack when he finished his rounds, Pitch headed for the closest house that had a child in it registering on his fear radar.

This house was, coincidentally, only a few feet away from the house of the little girl he had dusted last night and, before he visited the next house he stopped by the window to make sure she was alright. She was, sitting at her desk just like last night. Only this time, there was no strange blond sitting on her bed.

Pitch had to admit, he was disappointed. He had had a small, fragile hope that, through some miracle, she would be there and he would be able to ask her all those questions that had been plaguing his mind. But she wasn't. So, instead of letting the disappointment get to him, he sucked it up and traveled through the shadows to the inside of the child's room in the next house.

This house was, by contrast to the last one he had visited, quiet, peaceful and in and out. It was a simple matter of helping the little boy who was tripping his fear-radar face his utter terror of heights by giving him eagle's wings that allowed him to sky-dive safely, and when that was done, Pitch left. His job was done.

When he reappeared outside the house, he had a small smile on his face. The helping of the boy had given him a little sense of accomplishment. And, while it wasn't what he was looking for, it was enough for the moment to make him feel happy.

So happy, in fact, that he didn't notice the flying figure heading right in his direction until she had slammed into him, knocking the wind out of both of them and throwing them to the ground in a jumbled heap.

Pitch yelped undignified as he felt himself careening through the air, then swore as he landed hard on the concrete which sent shooting pain up his spine. He might've bruised his tailbone. Something had landed on top of him, but he couldn't see what in the gloom. Probably whoever had knocked him down to begin with. _Or maybe a bus, _he thought sarcastically. Whatever it was, it wasn't moving.

"Jack?" Pitch asked, suddenly concerned. He peered down at the figure which was practically laying in his lap, but facing away so that he could barely make out the outline of their body. "Is that you boy?"

The person moaned and lifted a hand up to their head, as if checking for a concussion, but offered up no reply.

Pitch frowned. That...didn't sound like Jack. He reached over and, taking hold of what he thought was the person's shoulder, turned them around slowly until he could see their face. It was a young girl's face- definately _not _Jack then, and as he stared at her, watching her eyes flutter beneath her closed eyelids and her mouth move in silent groans of pain, he thought she looked a little familiar. But it may have just been the darkness.

"Are you alright?" He asked kindly, putting a hand on her shoulder. This was probably one of his believers. That was why she had been able to walk into him and not through him. "Can you hear me?"

The girl raised her head, mumbling something about cupcakes and trucks. Her eyes were still closed.

Pitch smiled. "No my dear, you were not hit by a cupcake truck."

The girl grunted something that sounded doubtful, then finally opened her eyes. "You sure about that?" She asked in a slurred voice, probably from the impact as she blinked the stars away from her eyes.

Pitch froze. That voice. He reached forward and picked up a strand of her hair which was hanging in her face. In the night light it looked almost purple, but he would bet his robe that it was blond!

"It's you!" He cried excitedly, taking hold of the girl by her arms. "Oh, praise Manny, I'd thought I would never see you again!"

The girl's eyes narrowed. "What are you-" She asked but before she could finish, realization dawned on her and Pitch could see fear and confusion staring back at him in those pretty green eyes. "You!" She yelled, almost accusatorily. "You're the guy that was watching me and Piper last night!" Suddenly she started thrashing and kicking, trying to break free. "Let me go!" She ordered, twisting in his grip like a snake.

Pitch's euphoria was instantly replaced by worry. "Wait, stop calm down! I swear I'm not going to hurt you!" He told her as she writhed. He grunted as she tried to throw herself from side to side. This was like holding a wile elephant!

"Let me go dammit!" She swore, using her hands to try and scratch at him to make him let go but he didn't. Her nails weren't that sharp anyway.

"I'm not going to hurt you!" Pitch repeated, ducking a wild haymaker swing with her left fist that had managed to get free from his grip. "Please, I just wanted to apologize to you for last night!"

But she was beyond reasoning or apologizing. He could tell. She was acting like a frightened animal, the exact same way he had when he was a new spirit. _She must be young, _he thought, finally letting go of her arms just to see what she would do. And just like a frightened animal the first thing she did once she realized she was free was scamper backwards as fast as she could. He actually expected her to change into a raven and fly off, but to his surprise she didn't. She simply stayed there, in the shadows, watching him with those luminous green eyes of hers.

Pitch took a second to get his bearings. She was sitting on the ground, about six or seven feet away from him. He couldn't see the look on her face because of the darkness and her hair hanging in her face, but he could imagine it. Fear, coupled with confusion and an uncertain wariness that came from not trusting many people. He knew exactly how that felt. And he knew how to help ease the tension.

"My name is Pitch Black." He told her gently. He knew better than to move forward, or it might spook her and then he would never see her again. "What's yours?"

She didn't answer.

He waited patiently for five minutes, and when she still didn't answer he asked, "I've never seen a spirit like you before."

There was a flicker of movement in the shadows and he smiled. Finally, some recognition.

He kept speaking. "I mean that shifting into the raven, that was something special. And you did it so quickly. That must've taken you quite a lot of time to practice."

No verbal response, but this time he could clearly see her hair waving as she dipped her head in acknowledgement.

Pitch smiled. "I saw you helping that girl," he said, figuring that if complimenting her was making her trust him more, he might as well keep going. "You've got quite a talent for helping children." He heard a chuckle from the darkness. "That story writing, that was really good. Are you one of Ganesha's spirits?" Ganesha was the Hindu god of writing, credited for penning the first book with his broken tusk and some of his blood. Tooth had told him the story at least once, and it would make sense if she was a writing spirit.

But, instead of answering him, the girl rose up and started walking away.

Pitch jumped fo his feet and hurried after her. "Hey, wait! Where are you going?" He reached out and grabbed her shoulder, but the second his hand made contact with the fabric of her shirt she spun around, faster than blinking, clocked him right in the eye then took off.

Once again Pitch was sent careening back onto the concrete, this time holding an eye that was already beginning to bruise gorgeously and glaring after her with the other. "Wait!" He called, waving his free hand. She didn't turn around. "WAIT!" _Damn, she just has no patience._

This time she actually did stop, glancing back at him lying there on the ground. Her eyes were no longer full of fear. Instead, they had transformed into emotionless orbs that stared past his face and seemingly right into his very soul. She opened her mouth and said, in the steadiest voice imaginable, "Don't try to find me again." Then she took off.

Pitch rolled his good eye. "Here we go again," he muttered, fading into the shadows and hoping that he could get ahead of her. The race was on.

When he re-emerged from the shadows, it was several yards up the street and ahead of the girl, which was good. He stepped out and put up his hands to indicate that he really wasn't trying to hurt her. "Please, I just want to talk!" He told her, hoping against hope that she would stop. And she did.

When she girl saw him her eyes went wide and she did a double-take. "What the hell?!" Then she shook her head and started running off back down the street.

Pitch let out a growl of frustration and began to run after her. At least she wasn't flying. _Yet_. And if she did, he would be in trouble. Footsteps, both his and hers echoed off the wet sidewalk as he raced to catch up to her. What he would do when he finally caught her, he had no idea. He just hoped he would be able to catch her. If last night had been anything to judge by, she was almost as swift on her feet as she was in the air, and Pitch knew he was in for a workout.

He was right. The girl was, if anything, faster on the ground than she was in the air, and she led him on a merry dance all across Burgess and even through the out-lying forest. She darted through the alleyways almost as fast as the shadows Pitch commanded, silent as a whisper and the only thing that kept Pitch from losing her again was his ability to fade in and out of the shadows and that allowed him to keep mostly ahead of her.

He tried to call out to her multiple times, but she never answered. She just kept running. He tried to grab her and talk sense to her over and over again, but each time she slipped through his fingers. Once or twice he even tried to lasso her with some nightmare sand, but that had the exact opposite effect he planned.

It happened when they were still running through the streets. The girl had led him through the city to a long stretch of street with no alleys for several long yards, and after about a minute of straight running Pitch thought it might be a good idea to try using nightmare sand to try and subdue her. Maybe then he could get some answers. But as fate would have it, lust as he sent the sand after her, she happened to glance behind her and saw it coming her way. Her eyes grew very wide then, probably because she recognized it from the night before, instead of running faster she stopped dead.

Pitch felt a spark of hope ignite in his chest. Maybe she was giving up! He stopped too, hoping that she would come to him and gestured as such.

Wishful thinking.

She ducked the bolt of sand he had initially sent after her with relative ease. Pitch tried sending another length of sand, this time in the form of an actual lasso. But the girl neatly side-stepped that one too, giving him a disgusted look, as if he was completely wasting his and her time.

"Please!" Pitch called, though he knew it was in vain. "I'm trying to help you!"

She rolled her eyes, an angry snarl on her lips and fire in her eyes. Something had evidently pissed her off, but whatever it was she didn't look like she wanted to fight for it. However, the surprises that this girl had up her sleeve were far from over.

Instead of taking off again immediately, a slow change began to wash over the girl's body. And, instead of the split-second change he had witnessed last night, this one she actually took her time with. It began with her head. Pitch watched, astounded as her blonde hair retracted back into her skull until it was almost non-existent, and while that was happening her nose and mouth contorted together, the nose widening and sloping down until it fully met the mouth. Her ears practically fell off into dust, but were quickly replaced by rounded peaks that were covered in spotted golden fur, exactly the color of her hair.

Then the more dramatic changes began to occur. She fell forward onto her hands and knees and Pitch took a step forward, ready to help her if she needed it but the snarl that ripped from her mouth stopped him cold. It was almost completely animalistic, but there was also a humane undertone that sent shivers down his spine. And that was _very _hard to do to the Boogeyman. Then her body began to thrash. Her limbs shrank to fit the length of her body, muscles rippling beneath rapidly growing fur that was quickly consuming her whole body, eating away at the cloths she wore. A long, slim tail completed the transformation, along with a smattering of black speckles.

It was a beautiful transformation and Pitch wished he could've seen it up close, instead of from several feet away. The second it was finished she shook her head to clear it, then bolted down the alleyway. Pitch followed.

_So, she's not __**just **__a raven spirit, _he thought as he raced after the jaguar. Interesting. _Is she a multiple shape-shifter?_

It was a possibility. Not very likely though. To his knowledge, Manny had never made multiple shape-shifting spirits. Probably because it was too hard. Shape-shifters were notoriously unpredictable, capable of changing their mood and their body at a moment's notice.

_Well, whatever she is, _Pitch told himself as he raced after the jaguar. _I'll have to catch her first before she tells me anything._

But he couldn't catch her, no matter how hard he tried. He could get a few steps ahead of her or try to grab her, and that would just stress her out and possibly endanger him, but that was about it. The jaguar was just too swift. It was all he could do to keep her in his sights as he thundered through the streets.

But it didn't stop there. Oh no. When she couldn't shake him in the form of the jaguar, she decided to change her shape again. This time, she decided to go smaller, rather than taller and shrank, becoming a little house-cat with the same jaguar-patterned coat. This boosted her speed and made it much harder for Pitch to see her, but he continued to follow her, in spite of his pounding heart and the hideous stitch in his side that throbbed like a sword-wound.

Pitch frowned as he ran, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. _It feels like I haven't run in months! _He felt old that was the word for it. Old. Far older than he had felt the day before. _Maybe it's the strain of worrying for this girl, _he theorized. That was plausible, even though he didn't know why he was worrying for her. She was just a random spirit, after all. No one he knew.

But the ache continued to plague him as the chase changed from through the alley-ways to across the rooftops. The jaguar leaped onto a trash bin and used the extra height to bound up through the higher levels of the city. and of course, Pitch had to follow. Tooth often lamented his skinniness, in spite of his sculpted six-pack which he was still proud of. And now, after running for that long length of time, he felt skinnier than ever. At this point, he was probably as tired as she was. And all he could do was to wait for her to either grow tired or give up, at which point he would then calmly try to talk to her and get her to answer his questions.

It took a long, _long _time. She changed her shape three or four times after the house-cat. She went from the cat to a dog- a German Shepard, from the shape of the ears and tail that jumped across the rooftops with unbelievable agility, to a large bird that he thought was a hawk or some other kind of bird of prey, and this time he almost lost her, to a very big snake that appeared to be a boa constrictor that dropped through a slat in the roof that went back down to the street.

He followed the boa tenaciously until finally, she changed back into her raven form where she flew low to the ground and very, very slowly. Pitch noticed that each time her body morphed into a different animal, the change took a little longer for her to complete and each time it took a little longer, she got a little slower. Her pace slackened and soon Pitch was having no trouble keeping up with her. In fact he had to hold back, just to keep from over-taking her.

So he waited, biding his time by following her around the forest that lay on the outskirts of Burgess, near Jack's lake and his lair entrance. She tried to fly into the forest almost immediately after returning to her raven shape, presumably with the intention of losing him in it like last night, but this time Pitch knew better than to let her out of his sight. Which wasn't hard, given the speed she was flying at.

_She's losing this battle. _Pitch thought, watching as the raven strived to keep flying through the dark trees and canopy. He could tell by the way she kept looking back at him and the sluggish way she flapped her wings, without any real speed or purpose. Not that he blamed her. They had been running around for at least half an hour, maybe more. Soon she would be utterly exhausted.

Suddenly, Pitch found himself jogging on rich, smooth moss instead of the dry, dirty forest floor. He looked around. The raven had led him into a small meadow-clearing, ringed with trees_. Huh, _he thought, feeling the moss squishing beneath his feet. _I've never been here before_. He had explored every inch of this forest in his early years of living here, and had never once seen this place. Odd.

A sharp caw broke through his thoughts and Pitch glanced up to see the raven suddenly dropping like a stone through the air. His heart leaped into his chest and he re-doubled his pace, trying to get to her before she hit the ground but he was just a few seconds too slow.

The raven's body hit the ground with a dull thud that sent tremors through the moss, then bounced twice before it came to rest on her back, with her wings spread wide like a snow angel's. Before the bird could even grow still from the fall, her body began to thrash and writhe. She was changing again.

Pitch stopped about a yard away from her, watching in awe as the frail little crow's body swelled and stretched, while at the same time the feathers on her wings which were splayed out like obsidian fans began to wilt and melt away like hot wax, revealing stubby fingers beneath. The ones on her chest melted likewise and ran down her sides on little streams of black that soaked into the ground and vanished. Beneath the rapidly melting feathers, Pitch could see the same purple shirt and ink-spattered blue jeans she had been wearing before the changes had taken place.

As her body continued to grow to match her human form, so too did her hair. It sprung from her scalp like a living, ravenous thing, framing the sides of her face and crawling down the length of her back. It was fascinating to watch, undulating like the waves of the sea as it grew still longer. And still more fascinating, the color had changed from a bright blonde to a deep royal purple.

Pitch felt the strange urge to reach out and touch it, but he didn't. He kept waiting until she had fully regained her human form. And when that happened, slowly, cautiously, he began to approach her. He made sure to keep his footsteps silent, just in case it startled her. That was the last thing he wanted. Once he reached her he knelt at her side, watching as her chest slowly rose up and down. She was alive, at least.

"Hello?" He said gently, prodding her shoulder with his finger. "Hey, can you hear me?"

Not a single sign of life, apart from the breathing.

Pitch sighed. Well, he couldn't just leave her here. So, steeling himself, he slid his long arms beneath her body and began to pick her up. He thought the best place to take her might be the Pole, but to get there he would have to shadow-travel. And he was too tired to do that. Tooth's Palace was also too far away, and he didn't think the rabbit would take too kindly to him showing up in the Warren with a strange girl in his arms. That left only his caves, and he was about to set off back though the forest in that direction but before he could even take a step, she opened her eyes.

Pitch didn't even notice she was conscious again until he heard a voice that was so cold it nearly made him drop her. "Put...me...down."

His eyes snapped to her face. "You're awake!" He cried happily, shifting her into a more comfortable position. Relief erupted inside his chest. "I was sure you-"

"If you don't put me down right now," she interrupted, speaking to him in a voice that was colder than ice as she continued to glare at him. "I am going to bite you."

Pitch blinked. Well, that wasn't what he had been expecting. Not knowing what else to do, he complied with her request and set her down. She immediately jumped back up to her feet as soon as she hit the dirt and tried to run, but he caught her arm and yanked her back to him. As she was flying back she aimed a punch at his face but this time he was ready for it. He grabbed her fist and forced it down.

"I'm not trying to hurt you!" He yelled at her for what had to be the millionth time that night, looking straight into her eyes and holding her gaze. "I'm trying to help you!

She growled something unintelligible and started kicking him violently in the knees. "Let go of me!" She snarled, thrashing from side to side. She was back in the defensive animal state, though Pitch could clearly see that the fight was sapping nearly all of her energy. And so he grimly held on, waiting for the girl's exhaustion to give way and trying not to wince as each blow hit home.

"_Please_," he begged her, shaking her wrists which he had a hold of to see if it would make her listen. It was killing him to see her like this, even if he didn't know her. "Stop fighting before you hurt yourself!"

But the girl paid no heed. She just kept fighting and fighting, kicking, spitting, biting like a rabid dog. She even tried to head-butt him and he had to let go of one hand to avoid that, but he reclaimed it almost as quickly before she could slip away. As time slowly passed and exhaustion began to wear her out, her blows becoming halfhearted and her yells of frustration tapering off into resentful whimpers of distress, Pitch found himself pitying the poor child. Here he was, a stranger, trying to catch her like an animal, just so that he could what? Ask her her questions?

_No, _he thought as her weak fist pummeled his chest with barely less impact than an acorn dropping on the ground. _No, this is not right. _

He let go of her wrists. She sank to her knees on the mossy ground, staring up at him like a frightened mouse before a cat. Her hands were clasped together as if praying to some unknown deity. Pitch saw the fear and desperation in her eyes, along with the tears.

_Tears. I have reduced a child...to tears. _

He felt guilt gnawing inside his chest. That wasn't who he was anymore! He had changed dammit! Tooth and Manny had helped him change, and he would not become that person again.

They stood there, gazes locked. The sobbing shape-shifter with the green eyes, and the Boogeyman. It felt like an eternity. Crickets chirped, owls hooted, the world still went on around them everywhere, except in that little grove.

The girl opened her mouth. Pitch tensed. Then in a soft, tired voice she asked, "Help me?" Before keeling over onto the moss.

Pitch swooped to catch her, this time knowing that she was fully unconscious. He stared at her face, her cheeks red and glistening with tears for a long moment. Then he wiped them away and said softly, "I will."

With that, the Boogeyman turned around and vanished into the welcoming darkness of the trees, heading back to his cavern home. When he arrived in his living room, he set the girl down on his couch. Slowly and gently, so as not to awaken her. An inquisitive Nightmare poked its head through the doorway. When it saw the girl, it snorted and walked forward, sniffing the air.

Pitch turned his head to glance at it, then looked back at the girl. "We have a house guest." He told the Nightmare softly, watching the rise and fall of her chest. "Go tell the others."

The Nightmare whinnied, then vanished.


	4. Dark Have Been My Dreams Of Late

**Hey everybody, I'm back! I know I kind of left you guys on a cliffie with the last chapter and I'm sorry for that, but as Tooth says, that's the way the cookie crumbles! Haha! *Cue evil laugh* MWUHAHAHA! **

**hehe, anyway, this is a relatively short chapter which I had to write that way because it doesn't fit into the story right if I try to stretch it. The other one should be up soon, possibly within the next two weeks or sooner, depending on how much time I get to write this weekend. **

**Hope you guys like it!**

* * *

I hate dreams. I figure I should just put that out there. _Hate _them. Hate them with a fiery passion because somehow, someway, some irritating mother-effing way, they ALWAYS end up accurate to a T.

At least, for me they do.

I don't know if Sandy's got some personal vendetta against me or something for not sleeping much in the last sixteen years, or if it's just Karma trying to get back at me in any way she can for previous encounters which I will tell you about later. But for now, let me just repeated this so that you understand.

I...hate...dreams.

I didn't always hate dreams. When I was little I'm sure I loved them. Nightmares too. I loved anything random that could take me out of this boring, tedious normal life and send me into a masterfully created secret world where physics had no place and time was but a notion that held no real sway over me. I remember one time, I actually woke up crying because my dream had been so wonderful and fun and I was sad to see it fade.

If only I was lucky enough to have those dreams in the first few years. I might've done a lot better.

But the world isn't built on maybe's and if's. It's built on history, and truth. And the truth is, I didn't have a single good dream from the time I woke up to the time I was kidnapped by the Boogeyman. And even after that, it still took me months and months of waiting before I finally received my first good dream in a long, long time.

I had trust issues.

That's another thing I think I should put out there for future reference. I had a lot of trust issues, still do! Particularly in those early months when I didn't understand who or what I was. So, knowing this, when I woke up from an insanely worrying dream with some guy's big grey nose inches from my face, you can assume I got a little panicky.

And you would be right.

OK, I'll admit, the dream wasn't _that _bad, compared to some of the ones I've had.

It followed the typical pattern that had been established early on, starting out in darkness. Smothering darkness. The kind of darkness that resides in eyes so deep that you can never swim hard enough or dig fast enough to get yourself out of them. That kind of darkness.

Now, don't get me wrong I like the dark. I enjoy it, and the peace and quiet it brings. There's something about the dark that makes people just shut up and close their eyes, inhaling the unyielding blackness around them with only their steady breathing to break the silence. Something about it just makes me feel...relaxed. At ease. I hesitate to use the word content, but to be honest that's how it makes me feel.

The darkness didn't last long though. Soon light began to cloud my eyes, low light but light none the less. Blotchy shapes began to emerge from the darkness. Figures, lumpy and misshapen, as if some toddler had dipped their hands in the clay of life and made these...things.

After a few seconds my eyes began to focus and I could see more details. The figures weren't people, that much I could tell easily by their box-like shapes. A bed, maybe? Or a door?

My last guess turned out to be correct. It was an open doorway, leading into yet more blackness. But within the blackness- or in front of it, I wasn't sure. It's hard to dream in 3-D –was another shape. It was small, like a child and I could see stick-like arms raised up above its head, as if it were reaching for some long-lost toy.

While in my dreams, I have the uncanny ability to think and feel exactly as I do when in the waking world, and more yet, I can remember exactly what happened afterwards. Most of the time. I can remember sighing tiredly and turning away, not wanting to look at these phantom images of another person, whoever they were.

Just before I woke up, I heard a small voice from behind me. It was sobbing. I willed myself not to look, knowing that to look would just bring me more stress and heartache for something that I didn't and couldn't understand. But inside, I knew I wasn't that cold. So, in spite of my watchwords and self-berating, I turned around and looked.

It was a little girl. Her face was hidden, as she stood with her back facing towards me, but I could clearly tell she was some sort of urchin or street-kid. She was dirty, almost as dirty as I had been on my first night. Her clothes were ripped and she was crying, sobbing, begging pleading, at someone to let her not in, but _out_.

"Let me out," she begged. "Please, let me out of here. I just want to leave. Please."

Her voice was like a knife in my heart, plunging deeper and deeper with each please that escaped her bleeding lips. I turned away. I couldn't take anymore. Time to wake up. I thought my troubles would stop as the images vanished from my eyes and I emerged back to the real world. I was wrong. Dead wrong.

My eyes opened slowly, wary of the evil light that normally lurked just behind my bedroom door, waiting like a malicious cat to be let in by Cupcake so that it could leap onto my poor unprepared eyes and scald them relentlessly. But this time, there was no light.

I mean none.

Not a single sliver.

I blinked. _Am I still dreaming?_ I wondered, lifting my head up from the soft pillow it had been resting on. Normally there was at least a pinprick of light showing through the walls, as the sunlight shone directly on it for most of the day. I looked left and then right. Nothing but straight blackness, as far as I could see. I raised my hand and touched my nose, seeing if I could at least see myself. I couldn't. Not even when I raised my hand an inch in front of my eye and inadvertently poked it.

_So, I thought,_ glancing around again. _Either Cupcake's finally managed to caulk those holes beneath the door, or I'm not in Cupcake's house._

For some bizarre reason, I didn't have enough sense to fully recollect what happened the previous night. I think it might've just been the grogginess of sleep affecting my mind. But whatever the reason, I knew one thing. I needed to find some light.

I felt around on the surface beneath me. It moved a little when I put my hand on it. I bounced a little and discovered that it was a bed- or, at least a mattress. The sheets were warm, as if I'd been sleeping on them for a week, and they were soft. Softer than the rough cotton sheets Cupcake gave me on my bed at her house. I ran my fingers over them again, feeling a shiver of pleasure run down my arm. Well, where ever I was, at least it appeared to be nice.

I tried moving forward a little, crawling on hands and knees tenderly like a child to see how far the bed went, but I only was able to move a foot or so before I felt a drop-off. Gingerly, I stuck my foot out over the edge and eased it down until I felt solid floor- _rock,_ I thought, beneath it.

I reached out to see if there was a bedpost or something I could grab onto to keep me from falling as I eased the other foot down. There was. A smooth, tall spire that probably led up to the ceiling and a canopy above that. I gripped it tightly with both hands, praying that my feet were strong enough to stand.

They were. I took a few seconds to breathe and congratulate myself on one step of figuring out where I was being completed. Then I raised my head. Still nothing for blackness. I didn't feel comfortable just bumbling around in the darkness, hoping to find a lamp or light switch, so I chose to move around the other side of the bed, using the sheets as guides until I reached a wall. I felt around the wall for some kind of bedside table that I hoped might have a candle or lamp on it, but found nothing. I swore, then began to feel along the wall like a blind woman, hoping it would lead me to a door.

It was slow-going. I kept tripping and losing my direction, which forced me to go back to the bed and start all over again. After ten or fifteen minutes of doing this I took a particularly nasty fall and skinned my knee on the rough rock beneath me. I cried out in pain as I fell, then bit back a yelp as I landed hard on the floor, jarring my tailbone and sending tremors of pain up and down my body. "OW! _Dammit_ that hurt," I moaned, clutching my leg and trying not to swear.

I laid there for about a minute, nursing my knee and grumbling before I felt safe enough to try to stand again, but before I could even reach for the wall I felt something breathing behind me, cool air tickling the back of my neck.

I tensed up. Was there somebody else in the room with me?

Another breath hit the back of my neck. I frowned, listening. It sounded like the breath was preceded by an odd snorting sound, like that of an animal.

Slowly, making sure not to tweak my leg in the wrong direction and trying not to startle whatever it was behind me, I turned around.

There, staring back at me, were two very wide, _very_ bright golden eyes.

I gulped. Whatever this was, it wasn't human. But maybe it could still understand me. "H-hey." I offered shakily.

The…thing…snorted again, blowing cold air right into my face. I winced. It smelled horrible, like sand that is utterly clogged with the stench of decaying marine life and flesh. I'm not sure where I know that scent from, but that's exactly what it smelled like. The golden eyes narrowed and I swear the thing let out a sound that eerily reminded me of a horse's whinny.

I gulped again. "S-so, what are you supposed to be then?" I asked it, wishing that I had some form of light so that I could see what I was looking at dammit!

The creature didn't respond, but I felt its breath once more on my face cool as the air of a dank dark cave and so strong that it blew my hair back from my face. I coughed.

"Man, you need a tic tac." I told it, waving my hand in front of my face to deter the scent from lingering. "Do you even brush your teeth?"

The thing snorted and I heard the gentle clip-clop of hooves as it moved back a few steps, then it whinnied. I frowned. So help me it really _did_ seem like there was a horse in the room.

"What are you?" I asked it, reaching forward with my hands in the direction of the snorting and the eyes to see if I could touch it. Not the best idea, but I was curious.

Now, I'd never actually been around a real horse at that point. Yet. The closest I had gotten was Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron with Cupcake more times than I could count, and from that I had learned that you never approach a horse with your hands up. Always do it with your hands tilted forward at a sharp angle, so that it presents the smallest possible target if the horse tries to bite. However, I was doing this in almost complete darkness, so instead of using my knowledge- small though it was, I chose to wave my hands around blindly until they struck something cold and-

_Sandy?!_

I was about to ask what the hell was going on, but before I could even get the words out I felt searing pain in my fingertips and I jerked back with a shriek of pain. "AH!" The horse had _bitten_ me! I fell backwards yet again, but thankfully I was close enough to the edge of the room that the wall broke my fall, otherwise I should've certainly landed on my rear again. "You asshole!"

The horse whinnied back angrily, its strange golden eyes narrowing and I heard it clopping forward. Was it charging me?! I tried to crawl out of the way for before I knew it the horse was upon me, standing mere inches away from my body in prime position to kick me if I moved an inch. I froze. Its eyes were looking straight into mine, golden orbs floating in the darkness, without pupils or even whites. I gulped.

_Whatever's going to happen_, I prayed, _get it over with quickly. _I'm not proud of it, but I was honestly terrified at this point. It was a miracle I could even _think_ with all the terror of the unknown racing through my veins.

The eyes were moving closer. I held my breath as I felt the cool, rough skin or whatever it was touch my forehead. The eyes were so bright that I could see my own eyes reflected back in them, wide and terrified. Somehow, through some unknown reservoir of strength and courage that I didn't even know I possessed, I managed to squeak out a few words. "P-please," I asked, feeling disgusted with myself for stammering in terror when I didn't even know what this weird creature was but at the same time knowing that I shouldn't be taking any strength I had lightly. "Please, what do you want with me?"

The horse-thing didn't answer. It just continued to stare at me with those glistening pools of golden light, so cold and steadily that I felt as if it were staring past my eyes and into my very soul, drinking in my deepest darkest secrets and fears. My eyes were starting to water from staring so long and, against my wishes I blinked, and in the split second between closing my eyes and opening them, I saw the girl again.

It was the same girl from my dreams, still wearing the tattered clothes and greasy hair, but this time, instead of sitting at a desk or hammering on a door, she was standing. Just standing, in front of a large mirror staring into it. There were no tears running down her face, no cuts on her knees and scratches over her face. Just a blank, tired expression that eerily reminded me of my own when I was getting tired of listening to Cupcake.

_I wish I could figure out who she was,_ I thought as I stared at her. Then I happened to glance at the mirror she was staring at and my heart leaped into my chest, and not in the good way.

It was me.

At least, I _thought _it was me. The girl staring back at her was much taller than the little girl, and she had my purple hair. The only difference was, she was a lot chubbier than I was. I coud see the bulges from undereath her black shirt on her sides and her stomach was distended quite far, but I could tell it was just from over-eating.

I stared at the reflection in horror, my mind racing to figure out what it meant. Was the little girl me? Was I the bigger girl? What did this all mean to me?! I had obviously seen these memories once in my life, but I could not remember it. Story of my life.

The little girl raised her hand to the mirror and my eyes started to swim as the mirror reversed itself, taking the image of the little girl into it and reflecting the bigger girl outward until it was she looking into the mirror. The little girl in the tattered clothes had transformed into Cupcake, morphing almost instantly and instead of just being alone, I saw her surrounded by hundreds of other children. Her five friends from school, and many others. She was laughing, running around, smiling. Happy.

All the children were happy, except the chubby girl standing on the outside of the mirror, looking in. She was crying.

I felt a tear rolling down my own cheek. To be so close to family and friends, and yet to many many thousands of miles away... I could not imagine a torture worse than that. It would be my ultimate fear- no, it was my ultimate fear. To never know who I was, or what I was.

Suddenly, a sound broke through the vision. It was nothing that was supposed to be there, that I was sure of. It sounded like a thunderclap, as if the gods of lightning themselves were intruding on my dream.

_Dream?!_

My eyes snapped open. It had all been a dream! The girl, the mirror, everything. I'm not sure if I fainted from terror, or if the swirling golden eyes had lulled me into the arms of unconsciousness, but somehow I had fallen asleep and now I was awake again. Groggy and exhausted, but awake. Though my heart was still racing from the terrifying nightmare, my body felt as if liquid concrete had been injected into my veins. I couldn't move. I could _barely _think. It felt like I had been asleep for _years_, instead of minutes.

The same sound that had wrenched me from my nightmare split the darkness, a thunderous clap that shook the room and sent tremors throughout me. It was accompanied by a crashing noise like a wave, breaking apart a clump of rock and felt the room shake around me as a spray of something splashed across my face.

I closed my eyes- though what was the point? I could barely see any way -until I felt the gritty substance subside and then I raised my head slowly, expected to see the single pair of glowing eyes that had put me to sleep, but instead I found myself looking at not one, but _two _pairs of golden eyes that were moving very quickly, darting all across the room like fireflies, accompanied by the sound of thunderclaps which I now realized was the sound of its- _their_, hooves on the ground echoing around the room.

I still couldn't see anything but their glowing eyes, but I could hear everything. It sounded like two brawlers were going at it- _or two horses, _I thought. Then I wondered how a second one had gotten in here. _There must be a door, or a hatch.. Some way in or out_. My mind started racing. Maybe I could sneak away while they were fighting!

Feeling confident in this plan, even though it felt like I had a thousand pounds of liquid steel moseying sluggishly through my veins, I crouched down and tried to scrabble my way- discreetly, along the floor, using the wall as my guide. I moved as slowly as I could, hoping that the horses were too focused on each other to pay any attention to me.

They were. For now. I kept my gaze glued to those brilliant pairs of golden eyes, making sure they didn't look in my direction as they flitted around the room and the thunderclaps continued. It appeared my eyes were beginning to get used to the dark, because instead of just pitch blackness I could occasionally see flashes of other colors in the dark. Deep purples and reds and greens, but they were spread out and granulated, as if the colors were different kinds of sand merging togther in a ever-shifting coat.

_Again with the sand, _I thought as I inched slowly forward. _What, are these things __**made **__of it?!_

_You never know, _that irritating little voice who suddenly decided to speak up told me. _They might be._

I almost snarled. _Oh NOW you choose to pipe up! _I mentally grumbled. The timing couldn't have been _more _off. _Where the hell were you?!_

_Cancun. _The voice replied sarcastically. _It's very nice there this time of year._

_Well you picked a fine time to pop back in, _I told it angrily. _I don't even know where the hell I am and I'm surrounded by crazy golden-eyed horses! Aren't you supposed to be my conscience or something? Aren't you supposed to keep me out of this kind of shit by telling me how much of a moron I am?!_

The voice didn't answer for a few moments, and when it did it had lost all its humorous tone. _Golden-eyes horses?_

I clenched my fists. _Yes, golden-eyed horses. _I practically hissed. _Golden-eyed horses that might notice me and kick the shit out of me at any minute, so I'd __**appreciate **__any speedy ideas on escape, __**if **__it doesn't conflict with your busy schedule that is._

_Keep your hair on, _the voice chided. _Just keep doing what you're doing and you should be fine. They haven't hurt you yet, after all._

I rolled my eyes, crawling forward another few inches. _**Yet **__being the operative word. _I told it.

It appeared the voice in my head was starting to get irritated with me, because when it replied, its tone was sharp and short. _Well, if you keep up that attitude they __**will **__get you, no question about it._

I tried not to smile as I continued to army-crawl. By my estimate, I had moved several feet and still hadn't found a door. I sighed, deciding to just give up and wait until someone came for me. I figured that I shouldn't waste my energy on something that wasn't going to help me anyway.

This decision almost immediately proved to be a good one. As soon as I stopped moving I felt the queasiness that had been plaguing me since I had woken up vanish. My sight became clearer. I could make out the horses, one about three feet away; the other, five feet away, staring down at the other which was laying down on its knees. I could tell where they were by the height and position of their luminous eyes, though why one might be on its knees was a mystery to me. _Unless..._

Thankfully, something happened before my train of thought could go too far down that avenue. Although it was _not _something I was going to like.

The only warning I had was the creak of an open door before a blinding white light suddenly erupted in front of my vision from somewhere behind the horses. Searing pain flashed across my eyes as the light burned smatterings of spots into my retinas. "Agh!" I cried out, throwing my hands up to ward off the agony and squeezing my eyes shut. Even the blackness behind my eyelids was speckled with a spray of rainbow dots.

_Maybe you are back in Cupcake's house, _the little voice suggested. _She loves assaulting you with light._

The pain was almost _unbearable_. I felt like a bear that had been hibernating for the last six months to await the end of winter. and now that I had finally come back up into the light I found it not to my liking.

_Not the time Sherlock. _I told the voice as I tried to control the spasms of pain shooting through my eyeballs. _I've got more important things to do right now. Like regain my frikking sight!_

"Are you alright?"

I froze. Was that a voice? I tried opening my eyes again, but they were still too clogged with tears and spots for me to see anything but blackness.

_Not Cupcake's house then. _It sounded none too surprised.

_I swear to Hades I'm going to strangle you, imaginary persona or not! Now shut up, I'm listening. _I turned my head to the side, listening carefully. The voice was still speaking, but it wasn't to me. I could only hear words and bits of short sentences here and there.

"I told- Dammit! Get- both of you!"

I frowned. It sounded like he was talking to the horses. A gentle snicker-like sound resonated throughout the room, followed by the discontent whinnying of the other.

"Save it." The man said shorty and I found that I could actually understand all of what he was saying now, instead of just part of it. "I have no interest in your excuses Noir. Onyx, take her back to the pen. She's not to go out for a month."

The horse let out a sharp snort, then whinnied again. I assumed it was the one who was being reprimanded because the whinny sounded very displeased, but the man didn't seem to care.

"Well, you should've thought about that before you fed on her," he told it coldly. "You know my rules, and I _will not _tolerate any of you mares breaking them. Not a single one, do you understand me?"

There was a bit of silence before the horse gave a reluctant whinny.

I could almost see the man nodded as he spoke. His voice held disgust as well as anger. "Good. Now get out of my sight, while I fix this mess you've made. You should pray to darkness that you haven't scared her too much, or else it will go _very _badly for you."

Noir gave a frightened whinny and I heard the hurried clip-clopping of hooves as she made a speedy exit, anxious not to incur her master's wrath. The other horse remained, standing patiently to await his command.

The man sighed tiredly. "Follow her Onyx," he ordered, sounding as if he had dealt with this many many time before. Like a seasoned parent, reprimanding a young child. "Make sure she doesn't get into any more trouble. And when you're done with that, come back here. I might need you to guard her again, in case Noir spreads the word and the others come sniffing about."

Onyx whinnied affirmatively and I heard more clopping as she too turned around and left, leaving me alone in the dark room with the strange man.

During the strange conversations between the man and his horses- or whatever the hell they were, my mind had been racing with questions. Who was he, this man who could speak to horses? And how had I gotten into his home? Had I been exploring and gotten myself into trouble? Was that why he was keeping me here, guarding me with these weird things? Or was I a prisoner? The way he talked, it didn't seem like I was a prisoner. But you never knew. Things weren't always as they appeared.

"Are you still there?"

I jerked out of my thoughts, suddenly aware of the long, gentle hands sliding underneath my arm pits as the man attempted to pull me to my feet. I started to panic, I don't know why. Probably that annoying self-preservation mentality that demanded I keep to myself as much as I could until I figured out who and what I was. But, whatever the reason as soon as I felt those hands I started to thrash and squirm like a fussy child.

"Hey now, wait a minute!" The man said as I tried to break free of his grip. He still had me under the arms but now he pulled me closer until I could feel the beat of his heart matching mine, so that I could not get away. "I'm not going to hurt you! Please, there's no need to fight me!"

I continued to twist and squirm, but let no sound other than grunts of frustration escape my lips. I didn't like being touched at the best of times, especially by strangers. Add in the fact that the stranger who was touching me was doing it in the dark and was also trying to restrain me, and...well...you can see why I panicked.

"Stop, please!" He told me, though now it sounded more like an order than begging. His tone had turned firm and his grip on my arm tightened. "I don't want to hurt you, but if you keep struggling like this I might have to put you down again."

I didn't know whether he meant put me down literally, like set me down on the floor until I had calmed myself, or if he meant to knock me out again. Honestly, neither of the prospects sounded very appealing. So I kept on fighting, trying to slip free of his grip, in spite of my handicapped and tired state. Handicapped because I still couldn't see anything but blackness and tired because I had yet to regain my full faculties.

After a few minutes of continuing to reason with me, he finally realized that I wasn't going to give up until I either won, or was knocked unconscious again. He gave a tired sigh whilst I continued to fight. "I really don't want to do this," he told me. "But you are leaving me with no option."

It took me a second before the words filtered down into my brain. When they did, I instantly froze. All instincts that told me to fight, hide, run, left me in that instant and all I could think was, what was he going to do?

"Maybe when you wake up you'll be more agreeable." He said, switching his grip to my wrists.

I frowned. _When I wake…_ And then I felt it.

A strange, unnatural calmness was beginning to settle over me. I felt it first in my hands which slowly stopped moving, and then my legs as they grew heavy and sluggish, their kicks becoming weak and halfhearted. My mind felt as if a thin layer of fog had wrapped around it, clouding my thoughts and distracting my focus. I shook my head violently, but even that act took nearly all the strength I had in my neck and when it accomplished nothing, my head fell forward uselessly onto my chest.

"It's no use trying to fight it," the man told me quietly as he shifted his grip once again, this time moving me so that he could look at me. He was very gentle, I will give him that. The way he moved me, so tender and slowly, it was if he had had children of his own at one time. "Just let the sand take you. It'll be easier. And this time I'll make sure that they don't feed off of you while you sleep."

I squinted up at the man. From what little I _could_ see of him, pitch-dark as it was in the room, he was tall. Very tall. He towered over me like a dark shadow in the gloom. My head just barely reached the middle of his ribcage, and I was a good five foot eight! The only other thing about him that I could see, other than his height, was his eyes. They were the same color at the horses' eyes- a bright, golden shade that practically radiated their own light. I stared into those eyes for a long moment, aware that I was only a few minutes from falling asleep again. My eyelids were drooping. My breath was slowing. Every single function of my body was preparing for sleep. Even my spirit was ready to throw in the towel.

_HEY!_

I blinked sleepily. _Huh?_

_HEY! Hey Meggie! Don't fall asleep!_

I yawned._ I…can't help it! He's using some kind of sand on me, making me sleepy!_

"There you go," the man said kindly and I could see a smile glistening in the darkness. "I'll make sure you get a good dream this time, instead of nightmares."

_Fight it Meggie! Fight it! You can't go to sleep! Not now, you're so close!_

_That _made me wake up a little. I blinked again. _So close to what? _I asked.

_Fight it, come on girl! Stay awake! You can do it! I'm almost there!_

Almost there…_ What the hell are you talking about?! _I demanded, suddenly feeling much more awake and lively. The grogginess was rapidly fading as I blinked again, then once more, trying to drive the dreamsand or whatever the hell it was from my eyes.

_There's no time to explain! _The voice told me. It sounded, of all things, in a hurry.

How the hell can it be in a hurry?!

_Just fight it! _It ordered with the equivalent of a mental slap upside the head that made me wince, but definitely propelled me closer towards consciousness. _You can't fall asleep now, not yet! Fight him! Run! Do __**something**__ to distract him until I get there!_

I'm pretty sure it was just me completely losing my mind at this point. Sometimes I tended to get a bit carried away with talking to myself, and this was evidently one of those times when one of the voices in my head would act and feel so real that I actually thought someone was coming to rescue me. However this idea, while completely absurd, did give me the internal motivation to renew my efforts and continue trying to escape. I threw myself forward, catching him by surprise and actually managed to get free for a second before he recovered from his shock and lunged forward to catch me.

"Wait!" He cried, latching his long fingers around my wrist once again as I stumbled forward. I jerked away, but be hung on relentlessly, continuing to try and reason/plead with me, begging me to stop moving long enough for me to listen to him but I couldn't hear him.

I couldn't hear anything but the thunderous beat of my panicked heart and the rush of blood running through my ears. Cold fear began to wind its way through my other emotions, making my legs thrash uncontrollably, my hands too. I just wanted to get away, away from here, away from all this dark. I wanted to go back to the light. Back to Cupcake, back to something I knew. Yes, even back to that vomit-worthy pink bedroom. _Anything _but here.

One of my kicks apparently hit home because before I knew what I was doing I felt the weight of his hand leave my wrist and heard a sharp yelp of pain. The lack of weight and my angle from straining to get free sent me tumbling forward onto my hands and knees. I glanced backwards quickly. All I could see of the man was a huddles shape groaning on the floor.

_That a good enough distraction for you?_ I asked the voice, smiling in spite of myself as I pushed myself to my feet and began to run haltingly towards the wall where I hoped a door would be. I was getting out of here.

What I neglected to notice, however, was the man rising up to his knees behind me. I didn't see his angry glare as he shot a bolt of nightmare sand at my retreating back. I didn't even realize he was conscious until I reached the wall and turned back, just to make sure. My eyes connected with his bright golden ones and only had a split-second to see the bolt of sand heading straight for my face before it hit me.

I was asleep before I hit the ground.

XXXXXXXXX

Back in the dark recesses of the room, Pitch Black winced as he heard a dull thud echoing about the room, indicating that his aim had been true. The anger rapidly faded from his eyes as he rose to his feet and made his way towards her fallen form which he could see, hallowed by the dull yellow light that radiated from the candles out in the hallway. He couldn't tell if she was moving or not. He felt worry rising up in his chest. Had she hit her head? If so, what should he do?! He didn't know the first thing about treating spirits for injuries!

As soon as he took the first step waves of pain began to wash over him, radiating from the place between his legs where she had kicked him. He gritted his teeth and kept walking, telling himself over and over again that it wasn't her fault. It was his, for scaring her. He should've known better than to try grabbing her again. Especially after the last time.

"It was a stupid move," He told himself. "But you can't take it back. All you can do is make sure she's safe, and keep her that way until she wakes up."

Once he made it to her side, he crouched down at her side and lifted up her eyelid with his fingers. No response. Yep, she was asleep alright. Deeply.

His knees groaned in agony as he knelt down and picked her up, but he ignored it. His first duty was to make sure she wasn't severely injured by the fall. In all honesty she didn't _appear_ to be hurt and she was sleeping like a baby, but he felt the over-protective father-figure that appeared when Jack was around rearing its head again and he knew he just had to make sure. After shifting her to one arm, he raised his free hand to her head and began feeling around on her scalp for concussion or bleeding.

He checked all over her head and neck and, though his fingers got caught in her hair several times and he had to yank them out, he found no sign of bumps or cuts. He let his hand fall from her head with a deeply thankful smile. His heart, which had been pounding in his chest in anxiousness and worry, slowed its beat to the normal pace and he allowed himself a second to breathe a sigh of relief. Well, that was good. At least she didn't have any external injuries.

"Now what am I going to do with you?" He asked the girl, sliding his hands back beneath her body and picking her up until he was cradling her like a tiny baby, instead of the teenager she was. He couldn't leave her here. If Noir had indeed spread the word about the girl being here, then there would be more Nightmares prowling outside soon and as soon as he left…

"No." He said firmly, shaking his head and the thought away. "No. I _will not_ let them hurt her again. I shouldn't have let it happen at all!" But it _had_ happened, and now he had to deal with it. There was no getting around that fact. Pitch sighed. _I suppose I can take her to one of the main rooms,_ he thought, glancing out into the corridor. No Nightmares as yet, but it was only a matter of time. He had to move quickly.

Rising to his feet and continuing to ignore the pain in his legs, he walked to the doorway and poked his head out just enough to check both sides of the hallway. No sign of his shadowy minions- wait!

He ducked back inside, just in time. One of his Nightmares came galloping down the hallway that led to the pens. He could hear its hooves scratching against the rocky floor as he sped off, probably to find Onyx for the nightly patrol. He waited silently until the galloping had faded away into the distance before he finally dared stick his head out again. He glared out in the direction the Nightmares had come. It irritated him _so much_ that he had to _hide,_ in _his own lair, _from_ his own minions. _Irritated him to the point of wishing he could just turn the lot of them back into sand and start fresh.

_But I can't,_ he thought petulantly, letting out a huff of air in the form of an irate sigh. _They would kill me if I even tried._

And, more importantly, he _needed_ them. The way Tooth needed her fairies and North his yetis. They helped him do his job, even if they were all ruthless and almost as cunning as he was. _Well,_ he amended. _All of them except Onyx._

Onyx was his first nightmare- the first real one, anyway. He had made a few pathetic excuses for Nightmares before finally achieving her, but they hadn't lasted long. She was his first success in trying to create something to help him do his job, and it had seemed to be an unbridled success. She obeyed his commands, had good intuitions about when a child needed fear and when they didn't, and throughout the years she had even become a sort of companion for Pitch. Someone other than himself to talk to. Someone who, believe it or not, actually _listened_ to him.

Overjoyed with this success, Pitch had immediately tried replicating her, using sand from her being to create new horses which he hoped would be just like her. Sadly, those hoped had been in vain. What he had produced were a herd of monstrous demon-horses that were so starved of fear they were ready to pounce on any source of fear they could find- even those of little children's or his own, and turn it into terror to keep themselves alive. It sickened him that he had to work with such opportunistic and cruel creatures, but that was the way it was.

_Now, getting back to the question at hand…_ Pitch glanced back down at the girl. _Where am I going to put you to where I can keep an eye on you? _He thought carefully. "The whole reason I brought you here was so that you wouldn't be found as quickly." He gave a humorless laugh. "I suppose that's out the window." He _might_ be able to shadow-travel to his room and put her there. They would never think to look in there.

"No," he shook his head. "Sorry my dear, but I need my sleep too."

That just left one of the main rooms.

He sighed tiredly, heading back into the dark recesses of the room. All this worrying was making him go grey. Soon the black feathery hair Tooth loved so much would be as dingy as seagull's wings. He continued musing silently to himself as he picked a suitable shadow that would lead him to those which were always present in his room. Only when he prepared to step into it did he allow his thoughts to cease and concentration to take over.

_The room beside mine,_ he told the shadows. _Take me to the room beside mine. No detours. Do not let me be seen. _He didn't even have to picture the inside of the room for the shadows to know which one he meant. They knew every inch of it and the rest of his caves, which was why he preferred to use them instead of walking. Especially when he was carrying precious cargo.

Shadow travel was a bit like riding the subway- apart from the penetrating darkness and chance of getting eaten, though you never know with some of those New York subways. You could get in easily if you knew how and where to go, but once you got in you had to know _exactly_ where you were at all times to keep yourself from getting lost in the unyielding darkness. Or worse, absorbed by the shadows.

Luckily for his sake, he had been using them so long and had become so familiar with them that he was practically one of the shadows, and as such they didn't recognize him as a threat or unfamiliar being. But if another spirit that wasn't used to shadow-travel tried to latch onto him by force while he was in the midst of traveling, that spirit would get torn to pieces by the dark beasts that lived in the shadow realm. Their essence would feed the shadows for thousands of years, until some other poor unlucky soul got caught.

The actual sensations of shadow-traveling were few. It always felt cold, which wasn't surprising as the shadow-realm had little to no light, and whenever he arrived at his destination it was always almost instantly.

_One of the benefits of being a dark being,_ he thought as the shadows gently pushed him out of their midst, back into the mundane world of the spare room he had been hoping might be Jack's one day. _None of the damn light form North's globes._

As the shadowy hands of the obsidian blackness seeped back into their dark pools and Pitch turned towards the bed with the intention of putting the girl down but before he had even moved an inch he felt the phantom-pangs of abandonment begin to turn his heart cold and sad. He shook his head, wondering why that _always_ happened after he left the shadows. _Probably residual memories from the shadows about the Fearlings,_ he thought, moving forward.

The four-poster bed that sat in the center of the room was a bit dusty and the blankets were rumpled, but it would have to do for now. He set her down gently, making sure that her head didn't hit the solid oak backboard. As he was setting her down he felt his hand brush the skin of her arm. He frowned. She felt as cold as ice!

_I hope she hasn't caught hypothermia,_ he thought as he quickly picked up the black comforter which was folded at the end of the bed and swung it over her. _Though it would be just my luck if she has._

Despite Kozmotis not being present in his mind any more, he still got the occasional smart-ass comment sifting through his thoughts. This time it was, _Didn't you tell Jack nothing goes together better than cold and dark?_

"Oh shut up." Pitch told himself, adjusting the comforter to make sure it didn't cover her nose or mouth. Once that was done and he checked outside the door of the room to make sure that none of the Nightmares had sensed his fear through the shadows, he sat down lightly on the bed and watched her slowly inhaled and exhaling through her nose, the picture of a restful sleeper.

He smiled. In all the years of being the Boogeyman, he _never _got over how wonderfully happy children looked while they were asleep. It was as if in their dream-worlds, they were complete. Without want or wish. They had entire worlds at their fingertips, all they had to do was imagine it.

_What a wonderful feeling, _he thought. He had often imagined such things, before he had been graciously given back his memories by the Man in the Moon. And now, he was complete. But...sometimes he still wondered...was there something missing form his life? Some...some sense of adventure or independence from the world. He couldn't explain it.

"Maybe she can help with that," He murmured to himself, watching her lashes flicker as her eyes moved beneath the eyelids. She seemed to be having a very animated dream. _Good, _he thought. _She deserves something happy, after all the stress I've put her through._

He sighed again. Speaking of stress, he should be getting back to his library and continue working on the tasks that had held his attention before Onyx had sounded the alarm. He rose from his seat on the bed, did one last sweep of the comforters to make sure she was completely comfortable, then he turned and headed for the closed door.

When he reached it, he turned back to look at her one more time. "I'm going to an awful lot of trouble for you I hope you know," he told her.

She didn't reply, except to exhale a silent breath.

He smiled again and, quietly so as not to wake her, slid the door closed.

As he heard the door click gently shut, he sent a mental summons to Onyx who should be done escorting Noir to the pen by now. She appeared in a matter of minutes from around the corner that led to the deeper parts of the caves. Her sand-like black mane swished as she galloped towards him and her eyes glowed in the dim light of the hallway like twin candles. She whinnied and Pith heard her small, quiet voice in his head as she approached him.

_Noir is in the pen, Pitch. _She reported, slowing to a slow canter until she was standing in front of him. She stood a towering eighteen hands, which was the equivalent of six feet. Nearly a foot taller than most of the other Nightmares and almost bigger than the Clydesdales on which her design had been based. She had waving ripples of dark sand washing over her mane, which was also made of sand, and on the backs of her hoofs there were small trails of wispy sand that added an elegant quality to her. She was by far the most beautiful of his creations.

Pitch nodded as she spoke. "Good, very good. And has she told the others about the girl yet?"

He expected her to nod, but instead Onyx only shook her majestic head_. No, but she will. She is foolish and greedy. Cares nothing about the child. _She snorted in disgust at her sisters' lack of intelligence and compassion. _Like all of them._

Pitch nodded. "That is true." He was silent for a few minutes, wondering how long it would take before they did notice her. A few days? Maybe less, if she woke up afraid. The Nightmares were one of the few beings on earth- apart from regular horses, that could actually _smell_ fear. It registered like an airborne emotion with them, according to Onyx. They could feel it, like electricity in the air right before a lightning storm, and they followed it until they found its source. Pitch was reminded briefly of the end of the Nightmare War. Even Onyx hadn't been able to fight off the over-whelming scent of his fear when the nightmares had surrounded him and dragged him back down into the caves where they feasted on him for months.

Onyx seemed to sense his recollection of the less than pleasant memory. _I am sorry, lord. _She said, moving forward until her head was resting against his chest_. I allowed her to be hurt, after you ordered me to watch her. Just like I let you be hurt. I deserve punishment._

Pitch reached up and stroked her neck gently. "My dear, it was not your fault." He told her comfortingly. He knew the trouble self-destruction could bring about, and if Onyx continued believing that it was she that caused the girl to be hurt it would affect her judgment. And, more importantly, he knew the value of a true friend. "Noir is unruly, just like all of your sisters. I should have expected this. This was my fault, not yours."

She nickered softly. A sound that meant she was both relieved and wary. _My sisters were talking when I left. _She told him hesitantly. _They are wondering why you hide from us. What you hide from us. _

Pitch nodded patiently. "As I suspected they would." He thought for a moment, wondering what might keep them from asking too many questions before he finally alighted on am idea. "Onyx, can you do me a favor?"

Onyx nuzzled his hand with her muzzle. _Anything, Pitch._

Pitch smiled, stroking the length of her muzzle as he spoke. This sensation had a calming effect on the both of them, easing her worries and relaxing his tension. "Can you start a rumor that I'm anxious because Tooth might be moving in soon, and that's why I'm not talking to most of you?"

The obsidian horse raised her head and blinked, thinking. Pitch waited patiently for her answer and, after a few seconds, she nodded. _Of course. They may believe that. And it will explain why you spend so much time in your rooms. _Then she whinnied._ But they are also confused as to why you have not been going out for a long time. I am too. It worries me. _She tossed her head, a sign of anxiousness, and looked at him with her wide, golden eyes expectantly. _Are you finally moving on, Pitch?_

Pitch frowned. "Moving on? From what?" He asked, puzzled. "And I just went out the other night. I've been going on my rounds like normal since I received my memories a year ago."

Onyx pulled her lips back and let out a confused whinny, but before she could answer him he heard the sound of hoofbeats. Another Nightmare was coming.

"Can you guard her?" Pitch asked quickly, his eyes darting from the hallway where the sounds were coming from to Onyx. "I know you were supposed to take a patrol out tonight, but I can tell one of the others to do that. I just need someone to watch her, someone I can trust."

Onyx nodded. There was steel in her cold eyes. _Do I have permission to trample any that try to hurt her_? She asked innocently.

Pitch snorted. In spite of her calm mannerisms, Onyx was still his Nightmare. "Feel free." He told her, smiling. "And add in a few kicks as well. We can't let them think they can walk all over me, can we?"

The obsidian horse whinnied in laughter. _Indeed._

Once Onyx had accepted her charge, Pitch retired back to his library. He decided to walk, not shadow-travel this time. Excessive shadow-traveling might around their suspicions, and that was the last thing he wanted.

His library was one of the many things he enjoyed about living underground. Mostly because there was virtually an unlimited amount of space for whatever he wanted to put in each of this many rooms- in this case, books. And boy did he have a lot of them. One could almost say, too many. But that one would be wrong, because as everybody knows, you can never have too many books.

Pitch entered through the huge oak double-doors at the east end of the room. He preferred the smaller, more subtle west entrance which was guarded by a simple ash wood door and a Venetian lion's head handle made from obsidian glass. Less ostentatious, and unlike the big door he didn't have to strain to get this one open. Besides, this door opened directly into the reading room, which was where he was headed.

The design of the library was a far cry from quaint. In fact, it bordered on pretentious, but that was the way he liked it. Why live isolated if you couldn't do so in style? That was his motto. And it showed in everything he owned.

The shelves were made from finest oak, just like the door, and were set in an over-lapping rose petal pattern that was, in all honesty more like a maze than anything. The shelves rose up all the way to the ceiling and fanned out on all sides, apart from the south where the sitting area was, until they reached three of the walls which were connected by a single flexible line of wood that was attached to a ladder which allowed him access to the books that were much higher up.

And then there was the sitting room. The main part of the library where he spent his time; a small, cozy nook with a couch and an armchair with an expandable footrest, both sitting in front of a gorgeous black marble fireplace which was built into the southern wall- the only one that didn't have a set of shelves in front or behind it, whose crackling fire was always lit. That, coupled with the many-colored candles placed periodically around the room, the glittering ceiling and the books, each whispering its story to him like an old friend, made this place one of his favorites to visit in his entire lair.

Pitch had tinkered with the design throughout the years, trying out different places for the shelves and the like, but in the end he always came back to this one. There was something about this design, with the shelves behind him and their great shadows cast by the fire that gave him a comforting, homey feeling. And he hoped that he could be sharing it with someone soon.

Upon entering the library, he immediately made a beeline for his favorite chair and table, both of which were covered with books of various shapes and sizes and covered hundreds of topics. No two books were alike. Once he reached the chair he picked up the books from the chair and sat down, reveling in the comfort of the chair. It had been sitting by the fire, unoccupied for the last half hour and as such had grown quite warm.

"There's nothing like curling up in a warm chair with a good book," he said happily to himself, pulling the pile of books back towards him and opening the top one. Though these books weren't exactly for pleasure. They were reserch books which he had gathered throughout the years, each on a specific item but all with the same basic topic. Namely, magical beings. "OK, so where did I leave off?" He asked the books, flipping through the pages. "Rani, Red Cap, Roc, Ravenent, ah! Ravens." He pulled the book closer to his face and started to read from the passage.

_'Ravens have been a source of mythology since the dawn of time. They have been a sign of doom, and a sign of fortune. A sign of kindness and watchfulness from the spirits above, and a sign of deceit and distraction from those below. A sign of mischief, and a sign of somberity. But to all cultures, the raven has been a sign.'_

Pitch paused, rolling his eyes. "Oh great. So basically she could be trouble or a saving grace. Perfect." He muttered.

_'To the people of the frost-driven northlands, the twin crows Huginn and Muninn were the sacred spirits of the god Odin. They were seen in the old sagas as riding on Odin's left shoulder as his eyes as he rode into Ragnarok on an giant elk against the Jotuns. To the celtic lords of the mire and bogs of Great Britain, Ireland and Scotland, they represented the Morrigan, goddess of carrion and bloodshed. She lurked in the battlefields, wading through the blood to search for dying soldiers to bring back to her nest while her sister, the Badb flew in the skies, scanning the ground for dead soldiers which, once she found them, she then descended upon and ate.'_

Pitch grimaced. "Charming. I do so hope she isn't one of them." He had met Morrigan before- all dark spirits knew each other from meeting up one way or another. He hadn't met her sister, but from what Morrigan had told him about her, he seriously doubted that she would be found in the rooms of children helping them write.

_'The raven is also a prominant figure in the Pacific Native American cultures, being a trickster, a creation-god, a thieving mischievous deity, and a general trouble-maker for the other spirits. He is credited with giving sunlight, food and intelligence to humans and sometimes even the creation of the human race.'_

Pitch frowned, re-reading the passage again. "That's it? That's _seriously _all it says? I already knew more than that!"

He gave a bitter sigh and contemplated throwing the book aside, but then chose against it. There was no need for book violence. Instead he set the book gently down and picked up another, this one on shape-shifting beings. He read through that book too, cover to cover, but got the same results as before. Nothing. The same thing happened with the next, and the next, and the next book until finally, after several long hours of reading, Pitch fell asleep in his chair with a book in his lap and didn't wake up until the following morning.


	5. Dream On!

**Hey guys, I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, but I'm stopping this story. It's just too much work, I'm too tired these days and what with my school work... yeah. I'm just not that into it. So, this is good bye I guess.  
**

**HAHAHA, APRIL FOOL'S! **

OK, so that wasn't a nice joke. But in any case, here's the newest chapter! A few days late, I know! But trust me, this is where it gets good.

**I've decided to start replying to reviews again, because I seem to be getting so few in hopes that this'll make them start popping out of the woodwork like last time. : )**

**Dear Khr junkie: I know I know, but trust me, the sequel's going to make up for the evil clif-hanger!**

**To my most loyal and awesome reviewer EVER Frostofsummer: hehe, yeah I'm so glad you've been keeping up with the chapters! Your reviews are so consistent and always make me smile, no matter how short they are. **

**To Fanty: hehe, yeah I'm gonna be a lot of trouble for this poor guy. I knew you would love the Odin thing.  
**

**To Fanty, again!****: Yeah, the changes were a bit tricky, but I think I managed them quite well. **

**To Frost(Again!): I'm so glad. : ) Thank you so much for this. **

**To MaryPhantom: hehe, I know I hate cliffies too. **

**To Ddall: HEEEERE'S MORE!**

**To Assanee: I'm so glad. My writing is more for my readers than it is for me anyway. Hehe, self-chastening. Yep. That's me. And goosebumps were my intention. hehe. **

**To Ddall(Again!): Yep, it changes color with my mood. And very quickly.**

**To LuckyJ: I know I know, there's a lot of weird things happening to Abby but trust me, it just gets weirder. **

**To Bluefrost27: Yeah, he's not a very neat person when he's stuck in a deep pit of despair. **

**To Frost (AGAIN!): Already wrote it!**

**To Starskulls: Yeah, I'm honestly so proud of the funeral. I know it was sad and grim, but I think people will like it. I liked it and that's exactly how I want to go out, but with NO CRYING, more dancing, more food and LOTS MORE MUSIC! Well, since you haven't reviewed since now I hope you like these chapters. Here's the next one!**

**To my bestest friend of all my friends the wonderful Xion5: hehe, wait until you read this one! I'm so glad that you like this and hope you review soon!**

**To I-may-or-may-not-be-insane: I'm so glad. Hope you keep up with it!**

**Alright, let me know what you think in reviews! Here's the next chapter!**

* * *

The moment Pitch closed his eyes he felt the soft, gentle arms of sleep cajoling him deep into the realm of his subconscious. Which was a fancy way of saying he was pulled into a dream. Not an uncommon occurrence at the time and, in fact it was one that he was starting to look forward to.

Pitch had, over the last few months, grown to appreciate and cherish each dream he had gotten from his once bitterest rival- namely, the Sandman. He was no longer afraid every time he closed his eyes, for fear of seeing the monstrous deeds of his past. He was no longer terrified of the thought of going to sleep, instead relishing it each time his eyelids drooped.

Dreams, as Sandy had told him on more than one occasion, were a way for humans to decompress and distress from the troubles and mundane worries of the world. In a dreams, nothing was impossible, and that lack of impossibility was what helped humans' belief in the immaterial world- namely spirits, alive and thriving.

_I don't doubt it, _Pitch thought as he meandered through the green maze-like hedge which represented the beginning of his dream. He could see sunshine glinting off the tops of the perfectly cropped bushes high above him and smell the illustrious scents of flowers on the imaginary wind. This was the kind of dream he liked. Every aspect thought out, every detail mapped. A dream that didn't seem like a dream.

_I'll have to thank Sandy for this one later, _he thought to himself, continuing on his stroll. He had recognized this place almost instantly, having traveled here inside his own head once before. It was Yggdrasil's outer courtyard and he half expected to see Tanus waiting around a bend, but to his mild amusement he saw no one. Interesting.

This was another aspect about dreams that he enjoyed. The mystery of what was to come. See, he didn't have _any _experience in having dreams that weren't fraught with demonic voices, whispering for him to do horrible things. The last year's experiences dream-wise had been nothing more than idle curiosity on his part, but now that he knew what a true dream was and how they worked, he found them to be a delightful- if not beautiful, distraction that also provided mental stimulation when he wasn't feeling like talking to the others.

Pitch could see the white gateway draped in live roses that led into the gardens at the base of Yggdrasil in the distance. He sped up, wondering what wonderful heavenly scene the Sandman had crafted for him this time. He reached the gate in a matter of minutes, flipped the latch and stepped inside. Before he had even closed the door he felt something impact on his legs and heard a little voice say, "Oof!"

He looked down. Sitting on the ground, her black dress covered in dirt and her cheeks red from running, was a little girl. She couldn't have been any older than ten. He bent down to her level, peering at her curiously. "Are you alright?" He asked gently.

The girl smiled, nodding enthusiastically which made her long and flowing hair, which Pitch noticed was colored in a salt and pepper pattern and the lighter pieces of which were colored in every single shade of the rainbow, dance on her shoulders. "I'm fine papa!" She chirped happily, jumping to her feet. Her hand shot out and latched onto his and he noticed her skin was the color of rich mahogany wood. "Come on, you're late! Mamma and Sera and the others have been waiting for you for ages!"

Now, back in the day, Pitch wouldn't have gone a single step with a little girl that called him 'papa', particularly not one in a dream. But that was all in the past. This wasn't a Fearling, this was just a little girl in his dream.

_A girl which, apparently, is my daughter. _He thought, allowing the little girl to lead him forward into the flower-garden. It was exactly how he remembered it.

Elegant rows of herbs and flowering bushes set in the late Victorian garden style with a ring of fruit trees and roses encircling them on the outer edges. Their scents on the wind, mingling with the sun shining down on him and just the general calm atmosphere, made Pitch want to just sit down right there and savor it all, but something in the back of his mind kept telling him to wait. _Just wait. _It said. _There's more yet to come._

And there was.

"We're almost there papa!"

The little girl's voice brought him out of his thoughts and he glanced up, only to have his eyes widen and he almost stopped in surprise. Instead of a single stone bench, Pitch found himself staring at a massive gazebo that somewhat resembled the one in Tooth's palace, but this one was far more elegant. It was built in the traditional dome-shape with four huge stone pillars which held up the rose and ivy-covered roof, allowing for access from outside through all four walls and two adjacent smaller rooms in the same design on either side, all three with stone steps leading up to them.

But that wasn't the best part. Instead of a swinging chair the gazebo had a mess of overstuffed wooden summer lawn chairs and two couches, all of them surrounding a massive bonfire pit in the center of the room. The fire was dead, but the short stone wall around it was wide enough for people to put their feet or drinks up there.

"Wow," he murmured as the little girl kept pulling him along. "Sandy certainly went all out with this one."

The girl, thinking he was talking to her, nodded happily. "Yeah, Uncle Sandy did all this especially for you papa! Ooh, I can't wait to see Uncle Jack!" She gave a squeal of excitement and re-doubled her efforts. "There they are! Come on papa, they're all waiting for you!"

Pitch frowned. "They?" Then he realized why the chairs looked so over-stuffed. There were people sitting down in them! A lot of people. "Uh, little one, just how many people are here?"

She turned her head to glance back at him and Pitch could see her gleaming amethyst eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, all of them of course! Come on!"

_All of them. Of course. _Pitch smiled to himself as he tried not to trip over the various roots protruding from the ground. "I'm coming dear," he told her. "But I can't move as fast as you."

She glanced back at him, giggling. "That's right. Momma says you're getting to be an old man." She told him. Then she whispered conspiratorially, "I think she's right."

Pitch narrowed his eyes. "Are you calling me _old?_" He demanded, raising his eyebrows in mock severity.

She smiled an evil little smirk that practically _screamed _Jack's influence. "Not _that _old. Only older than momma, sissy, Jack and all the uncles and aunties together!"

Pitch smiled, suddenly possessed by the same mad, happy feelings that seeing Sera and Jack brought to the surface. The feelings of a father. "Alright, that's it!" He cried and, without warning, bent forward to scoop the little girl up under her armpits.

The girl let out a shriek of glee and cried, "Can't catch me!" Before slipping free of his hand and bolting for the gazebo.

"Ah, a challenge!" He exclaimed, reaching out with his long arms as he raced after her, the thrum of his heart matching the sound of his and the little girl's footsteps as they zigzagged through the flower bushes. He felt so happy. "I'm gonna get you little one!"

The little girl turned her head. She was sticking her tongue out at him. "Nah nah, can't catch me papa!" She taunted, grinning.

"Oh no?" Pitch took one gigantic leap and was almost able to grab ahold of her, but before he could something miraculous happened. The little girl saw him coming and, turning around to face him while still running backwards, she began to rise up into the air.

Pitch gaped. "How-" He stammered, staring at the ground and then at the girl while still somehow managing to keep his feet. "How are you doing that?"

Her grin was stretching practically from ear to ear now. "I know! Yesterday I could barely float! But Uncle Jack and Momma have been giving me lessons, and now I can fly for real!" To demonstrate, she turned away from him and raised her arms up. The gentle wind rose to her command and took hold of her, carrying her up, up, up, until Pitch could only make out a speck of black in the sky.

Pitch gulped. That seemed awfully high for a child who, by self-profession, had only learned to fly yesterday. He opened his mouth to call up to her.

"Shirana! Shirana Alyss Black get down here this instant before you fall!"

Pitch's eyes snapped back down to earth and he saw a figure walking towards him. His jaw dropped. "T-Toothiana?" He breathed, hardly daring to believe his eyes.

It was Toothiana- at least, he _thought_ it was. He recognized the face and skin color as Tooth's from the North Pole, when she had cried and all of her feathers had melted away, but instead of wearing normal clothes she was decked head to toe in traditional Indian _sari_ and positively dripping with golden jewelry. The fabric was as blue as the sky, with silver stars scattered across the vast expanse that she had wrapped around her like a blanket. The skirt was the same color, if just a shade or two lighter, and her top was almost none-existent. Just a slim length of bead-covered cloth that was wrapped around her breasts and exposed her stomach. As she drew up beside him, Pitch was unable to take his eyes away from her. She looked…

"Like a goddess," he murmured without realizing what he was saying before the words were out of his mouth.

She raised an eyebrow. "What was that dear?" She inquired, her sweet smile letting him know that she had heard all too well, but she just wanted him to repeat it.

Pitch licked his lips which had gone dry. "You look radiant Tooth," he told her, almost reverently. "Like a goddess."

Tooth smiled and leaned forward, planting a kiss on his lips. "I know." She whispered, her amethyst eyes sparkling teasingly. Then when she pulled away she said, "Now will you please control our daughter? If she goes any higher I'm going to have to have Jackson bring her down and ground her, and I really don't want to spoil this day." She added, giving him what he believed was called the 'puppy dog eyes'. "Please Pitch?"

He was like putty in her hands.

"Alright, I'll get her down." He promised, glancing upward. He couldn't even see her now! He glanced back at Tooth sheepishly. "What's her name?"

Tooth rolled her eyes. "Honestly," she muttered. "You remember everything from our wedding day to my birthday, but you can't remember our children's names."

Pitch's heart nearly skipped a beat. "_Children?_" He repeated. "As in _plural?_ As in more than one?"

Tooth rolled her eyes again. "Honestly, I think Manny is right about you needing to retire soon. You're starting to lose it darling." She kissed him again. "Her name is Shirana, after my mother. Now please get her down here, before she falls." She turned around, starting to head back to the gazebo. Pitch watched her go, dumbstruck. He had children here…more than one! About half-way to the gazebo Tooth stopped and glanced back at him. "Try telling her Uncle North won't let her drive the sleigh anymore. That might work." She suggested, then turned back around and continued to the gazebo, leaving Pitch very befuddled and confused. And fearing slightly for the passengers of said sleigh.

After a second however, he blinked and snapped out of it. He needed to get the girl- Shirana, down, otherwise Tooth might get angry. "Shirana!" He called, cupping his hand to his mouth. "Shirana! It's time to come down now!"

He heard a defiant and very faint, "No!"

Pitch sighed. Alright then. "Shirana, your mother says you won't get to drive the sleigh _ever again _if you keep behaving like this!" He called, trying to keep his voice firm and parental. Before the sentence had even left his lips, he saw a little black comet speeding towards him. He held out his arms to catch her and she landed like a mag of rocks with a squeal of glee.

"YAY!" She cried, waving her arms in utter jubilation. "My first landing!" Then her little face grew serious. "Uncle North will still let me drive the sleigh, right? I'll be a good girl, I promise!" Then _she_ started giving him the puppy dog eyes and Pitch let out a barking laugh.

"Well, we know which one of you got your mothers' genes," he told her, kissing her on the forehead and holding her gently as he turned back towards the gazebo and began to walk again.

Without having to run after Shirana, it only took him a few seconds to reach the steps and when he did, he found virtually his _entire_ family was there to greet him. His eyes, as if they hadn't already been wide enough, grew to the size of dinner plates as he took in all the familiar faces.

Directly to his right, sat the Guardians: Tooth in her gorgeous Indian outfit- which he would have to remind himself later to buy for her once this whole mess with the girl was over, then North who- to Pitch's surprise, wasn't wearing his typical Russian overcoat. Instead the huge Cossack was wearing the lumberjack equivalent of a red T-shirt and- if you could believe it, jeans!

_He looks like a big teenager, _Pitch thought with a smile, sliding his eyes farther down the row of chairs.

Next came Bunny, who didn't look all that different. Maybe there was a few more streaks of grey in his fur, but other than that he looked practically identical to the Bunny Pitch remembered seeing a few days ago. He was leaning across the arm of his chair with his arms folded in his lap, talking to a spindly young man in his early twenties with sparkling white hair who sat beside him. Pitch blinked. "Jack?"

The young man glanced up, frowning. Then he saw him and his smile widened. "Pitch, you finally made it!" He cried, leaping to his feet and floating across the room until he was hovering right in front of him. He embraced the stunned Boogeyman, still grinning. "Mom was afraid you weren't going to get here on time, but I told her you wouldn't miss the twins' birthday party for the world!"

"Uncle Jack!" Shirana squealed, leaping from his arms and into Jack's like a little black monkey. "Uncle Jack, remember me?"

Jack- who seemed to have sensed this coming, threw open his arms just in time and when she leaped, he wrapped his fingers securely around her and lifted her up high. "Oh, there's my beautiful little niece!" He said, looking her up and down. "You're getting big Rana, soon I won't be able to give you rides anymore."

Shirana looked like she was about to burst from excitement. Her little eyes were wild with excitement and her grin almost stretched from ear to ear. "That's OK Uncle Jack, I'm learning how to fly for real now! I had my first landing a little while ago!"

"You _did?_" Jack asked, widening his eyes comically and pulling her back down into a hug. "Oh, that's wonderful sweetheart! Soon you'll be zooming through the clouds, just like me and Momma and Uncle Sandy." To illustrate he started spinning around and around, faster and faster.

Shirana squealed with glee, throwing out her hands and crying "Faster, Faster!"

But after a few revolutions, Jack slowed to a halt. "That's enough for now little princess," he told her, setting her on the ground. "Now, be a good girl and go play. I'll be along in a minute, after I say hi to your dad."

She nodded and ran off, still giggling.

Jack straightened up, his cheeks radiating a slightly pinkish hue from the effort of spinning around. "Whew!" He exclaimed, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. "She's a non-stop ball of energy, isn't she?" His voice had deepened a bit too, Pitch noted.

He nodded, smiling. "That she is. Reminds me of a certain young winter spirit I used to know." He looked the boy up and down, taking in the muscles in Jack's arms that he could clearly see under the same white hoodie and the slight wisp of a beard growing on his chin. "Though not so young any more I see." He added.

Jack chuckled. "Wait 'till you see Sandy. I barely even recognized the guy!" He jerked a thumb backwards and Pitch turned to look. A tall person was weaving through the chairs and people, coming towards them. A tall, _golden _person.

"Sandy?!" Pitch gaped. This was, by far, the most dramatic transformation of all. Sandy, the squat little dreammaker Guardian, had somehow been transformed into a tall- OK, medium height, young man who appeared to be a little younger than Jack, wearing an aviator's uniform, complete with boots, pants, a WWII bomber jacket and goggles resting on the brow of his spiky head and a scarf. He still had the glittering golden skin and hair, but other than that he looked like a normal young man.

Sandy grinned and did something that almost floored Pitch. He spoke. "Not what you were expecting?" He asked, raising his sandy eyebrows. His voice was quiet, but had a musical undertone, as if merely hearing it could put him right to sleep. Pitch continued to stare unwavering at the young man, so much so that Sandy rolled his eyes and said, "Take a picture it'll last longer."

Finally, he managed to crank his jaw shut. "You look..."

"Younger?" Sandy suggested, grinning. "Slimmer? More stylish?"

Pitch felt a smile creeping across his lips. Yep, same old Sandman. "I was going to say like a World War l midshipman after a rave, but those work too."

Sandy threw back his head and let out a merry laugh like tinkling bells. "Ha! I haven't heard that one in a while." He grinned, pulling Pitch into a hug which Pitch accepted happily. Where normally the tiny Guardian wouldn't have reached past his legs, the new and improved Sandy was almost tall enough that the tip of his spiky bed-head hair tickled Pitch's chin.

"Thank you for doing this for me Sanderson," Pitch muttered, knowing that he wasn't talking to a Sandy that would remember this, but feeling like he should say it anyway. "This beautiful dream, it's more than I could've ever wished for."

Sandy pulled away, frowning. "What dream?" He asked, though Pitch could clearly see the twinkling in his eyes. He knew _exactly _what dream.

There was an awkward pause, then Jack coughed. "Well, I know there are a few more people dying to see you again Pitch."

Pitch nodded. "Indeed. And I them." He gave a quick nod to Sandy who nodded back, smiling. Then he turned to follow Jack. Sandy watched him go, noting the happy smile on his face. In reality, he was just an extension of the Sandman, sent here through the dreamsand to make sure Pitch got a restful night's sleep. It appeared his mission was being fulfilled.

Time passed like the world itself was on pause. Pitch felt almost no change as Jack re-introduced him to the more estranged members of his family. The first person they found was Seraphina, and not looking a day older. She still wore the same green dress, same grass slippers, same woven belt. The only difference was the crown of holly on her black wavy hair. She threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek, thanking him for thinking of Yggdrasil for the site of the twins' birthday party.

"It was genius," she told him. "Simply genius."

Pitch coughed modestly. "Well, it was all Sandy's idea really."

Jack elbowed him in the ribs. "Aww come on gramps," he teased. "We all know that without you this wouldn't have been possible."

Pitch rubbed his side, but he had to agree. This _was_ his dream after all.

"So," Jack asked, quickly changing the subject. "How is my _other _favorite niece?"

Sera smiled, glancing down at her own stomach. "Oh, she's doing well. Another few months and we get to start picking out names."

Pitch's jaw dropped once again. "You're having a baby?" He yelped, half over-joyed half confused and he pulled Sera into a firm, but gentle hug.

When she pulled away she was smiling. "Yes, and she's going to look just like her grandmother." She laid her hand on her stomach which Pitch could now see just slightly protruded from her dress.

Jack snorted. "Yeah, and you'd better hope that she looks nothing like her grandpa, otherwise we're going to have some serious identification issues with whose is whose later." He joked.

Pitch's eyes narrowed. "And...who is the father?" He asked evenly, his eyes flicking form her to her stomach. "Do I have to go murder someone Sera my dear?"

Sera laughed, waving the completely serious quip away. "Oh, don't worry about that. Papa already gave Nick the _responsibility _speech." She giggled behind her hand. "Nick certainly got a taste of his own medicine with that one."

Pitch had to laugh. The big Russian had already given him his rendition of the 'Wonder Speech' as the other Guardians had affectionately called it. "Good." He told her, smirking while trying not to go over and strangle a certain jolly Russian. "Then I don't think I have to cause the old toymaker quite as much grief."

Sera moaned. "Oh gods, maybe it was _better_ having no parents!" She muttered.

From there, Pitch found Manny and Nightlight- both of which hugged him and congratulated him on becoming a beacon of redemption for the spirit realm which he graciously accepted, in spite of not knowing what the heck they were talking about. Just as he was about to get sucked into a conversation with Nightlight about the various constellations that still shone in the sky, Kozmotis and Archaline appeared at Manny's side. Kozmotis embraced him like a long lost brother, shaking his hand and then pulling him into a hug. As soon as their heads were close enough Kozmotis whispered, "Do you know about North?"

Pitch nodded. "Planning his murder?"

Kozmotis chuckled darkly. "No, sadly." He replied. "Archaline wouldn't let me. I'm content to just watch this all unfold and let him live through the hell that is a Pitchner child." Then he pulled away. "So, can you believe it? Your little ones are ten already."

Pitch nodded. "I keep hearing about multiple children of mine," He commented, trying to sound casual. "But I can't seem to find the other."

Kozmotis glanced around. "Oh, Coal is probably exploring Yggdrasil." He replied, waving his hand. "You know your son. Always trying to get into trouble."

Pitch nodded. "Coal," he repeated, tasting the name out on his tongue. It sounded perfect.

They talked for a bit on various topics, from the alarming quantity of dark spirits that seemed to be coming out of the woodwork to the alarming quantity of children that the Guardians were having.

"Soon North's going to have to turn the Pole into a daycare, instead of a workshop." Kozmotis joked, picking up a cold drink and taking a sip.

Pitch chuckled. "Indeed. What with his own little one running around soon, the only way he's going to be able to completely child-proof everything is duct tape and plastic."

Kozmotis went to respond, but a voice interrupted him.

"Pitch! Hey, Pitch!"

Both spirits turned around, looking for the snowy-haired owner of the voice. It took him a second, but eventually he spotted a crowd of people- headed by the winter spirit, making their way towards them. Jack was hollering and grinning like a lunatic. "Guess who just showed up!" He hollered, waving his hands.

Kozmotis smiled. "I'll leave you to it then." He said, nodding once before melting back into the throng of spirits.

Pitch rolled his eyes. "Yes Jack, what-" The words suddenly died in his throat as he saw the faces of the people standing behind him. He frowned. "Pardon me, but I don't think we've met."

The young man standing behind Jack laughed. "Oh we've met Pitch, it's just been too long for you to probably remember us." He stuck out his hand. Pitch reached out to shake it, but froze. On the inside of his wrist was a small tattoo, an elegant silver ribbon that was twisted into two words. _Last Light._ He gaped, staring at the tattoo. "Jamie?!"

The young man nodded, pulling Pitch into a hug. "Yep, it's me Pitch."

Pitch pulled away, still staring. The young man before him- he had to be in his twenties or early thirties at least, had long shaggy grown hair, a black T-shirt with a New York logo plastered over the front and the same bright brown eyes. He honestly looked nothing like the boy he remembered, but Pitch decided to just go along with it.

With each hug or handshake, Pitch slowly began to forget that he was even in a dream. The people here were talking to him just like they would if they were real, telling him about their lives and who was doing what. Jamie had apparently married the little girl in the greet hat, who he later learned was named Pippa, the twins had taken jobs as dueling DJ's and the big girl that had once been a bully- somehow he never got around to asking her name, was now married to the blonde boy with the over-sized glasses and living in a massive house right in the center of Burgess.

They talked and talked and talked all through the night as the sun fell from the sky. Pitch couldn't even remember half of the conversations he had, but he knew they were all wonderful. When the bright sunlight faded and the group of people settled down, Sera suggested they all go out into the fields and watch the stars. Everybody agreed and Pitch soon found himself laying on a blanket with Tooth beside him and little Shirana nestled between them. He smiled, watching golden strands of light shooting across the sky. Even if this wasn't real… it was still beautiful. His eyes began to drift slowly closed and as they did, he felt something soft, wet and warm nuzzling his hand.

"No," he mumbled. "Onyx, go away."

Wait…Onyx? What was Onyx doing in his dream?

He opened his eyes, blinking the thin layer of sleep-inducing dreamsand which had been dusting his eyelids away as he looked around. Instead of the dark starlit field, all he could see were the shadowy walls of his cave. The dream had ended. He had woken up.

Pitch sighed. _Well, it was wonderful while it lasted._ He thought pessimistically, using the arms rests on either side of him to push himself back up into a proper seated position. Though in all honesty, if it hadn't ended soon he probably would've started to worry. He still had the warm, content feelings in his chest and he felt better rested than he had in a long time, so that was good at least. Now all he needed to do was figure out why Onyx was bothering him and he might be able to go back to sleep before the dream faded.

Speak of the devil. Onyx whinnied nervously. _Pitch? Are you awake yet?_

Pitch nodded, turning to face her. She was standing on his left side, waiting patiently. She'd probably been standing there for a while. He reached up and patted her neck. "Yes my dear, I'm awake." Then he frowned, his memories from the previous night slowly flowing back into his consciousness. The girl's attempted escape, knocking her out, setting Onyx to watch her… "Onyx, why aren't you guarding the girl?" He asked. A flame of hope began to well inside him. "Is awake?"" He asked eagerly.

Onyx shook her head. _No, not yet. _She reported dutifully._ But she will be soon._

Pitch narrowed his eyes, his brow creasing in a frown. "Then why are you here?" He asked suspiciously.

Onyx shuffled her hooves nervously. _Something is…happening to her._ She answered haltingly, keeping her head down.

The words sparked a light of panic in Pitch's eyes and his parental instincts instantly went into overdrive. "Is she alright?" He demanded, bracing himself with his hands and rising from his chair. "Did one of the others try to hurt her? Is that why you're here?" Before the Nightmare could even get a chance to respond, he tried to cross the floor to get to the double doors that led to his rooms. This wasn't the best idea at the time, considering he hadn't used his feet in over ten hours and they were quite numb. He stumbled the first few steps and almost fell on the third, but before he hit the ground Onyx was there in a flash, presenting her back to use as a brace which he accepted gratefully.

"Thank you." He told her, grinning sheepishly as the panic slowly faded.

_Don't mention it._ She replied. She'd seen her master in this state enough times to know what to do. _And the girl is fine. She told him gently. I left Nox with her to make sure the others didn't get to her. And, before you start yelling, let me tell you that I trust Nox. She wouldn't do anything to hurt the girl._

Pitch gritted his teeth upon hearing the other Nightmare's name. "Of all the Nightmares," He muttered, using Onyx's back to push himself back up until he was standing straight again, waiting for his feet to regain their blood flow. "Couldn't' you have picked a better one?" He asked her as she slowly walked back over to the chair and allowed him to sit down again. "She was one of the Nightmares that dragged me down at the end of the war. What makes you think she has _any_ loyalty to me left?"

Once her master was safely in his chair, Onyx turned to face him. _Do you trust me?_ She asked plainly.

Pitch sighed, rubbing his forehead. Any relief from headaches he had gotten from the dream was now gone. "You know I do. I would trust you with my life Onyx." He replied, and he meant it. There weren't many people he would trust with his life, but she was definitely one of them. Then he scowled. "It's _her_ that I don't trust."

Onyx sighed and nuzzled her master's hand. _But you trust me, _she pointed out. _And I trust her. _He still didn't look very reassured, so she leaned forward and nipped playfully at his fingers. _She really is trying to change, _she told him seriously. _I've been noticing her and a few of the others sidling away from Noir and the other trouble-makers. And she's confronted me with it too, _she added, noticing that this seemed to resonate with him because he cocked his head to the side, regarding her silently. _She has spoken with me, told me she's sorry for what she did and wants to make amends._

She expected him to be glad of the news, but instead of smiling, he simply nodded. "Hmm, interesting." He murmured. Then he shook his head. "Anyway, what were you saying about the girl?"

Onyx sighed. She would have to get through to her hard-headed master at another time. _Follow me. _She turned around and started slowly cantering towards the door.

Pitch stood up again, this time doing it slowly and carefully so that he wouldn't fall. And, after a moment of waiting for his vertigo to re-focus, he followed. Onyx led him straight to the room he had left her in, nudging the door open with her foot. The door swung inward and Pitch stepped inside, followed by Onyx. The first thing he saw were two brackets on either side of the room, each with a candle burning gently away in its iron grip. They cast an eerie glow over everything, including the four poster bed where the girl lay.

Well, _lay _was a bit of an understatement. _Sprawled _might be closer to the mark.

Pitch frowned, walking up to her. The bed sheets were an absolute mess, completely opposite of what they had been when he had left her. All he could see was a misshapen figure under a web of black blankets, with an occasional foot or strand of hair sticking out. He glanced back at Onyx. "Is she..."

_You worry too much. _Onyx told him, butting her head against his shoulder playfully. _Like I said, she's fine. Just a little...tangled up. And anyway, that's not what I wanted to show you._

"It's not?" Pitch's eyes narrowed farther. Then what was?

_No. Look at her hands and feet._

Pitch glanced at said appendages and didn't see anything wrong with them, but he was starting to wonder if Onyx was having some sort of delusion brought on by fear withdrawals.

Onyx seemed to pick up on his skepticism. She stomped the ground angrily with one hoof and let out a huff. _**Now**__ I know how the Guardians beat you so badly,_ she muttered.

Pitch felt his temper flare up. "Be careful how you speak to me," he told her coldly. Even though he was a benevolent spirit now, he still retained the royal presences of the King of Fear. "Remember who rescued you from the other Nightmares _every single time_ you got into a brawl."

Onyx looked like she was about to kick him again. Her eyes were wide and full of golden fury and her mane was rippling, which was what happened when she or any of the others got angry and, for a split millisecond, Pitch actually felt afraid of his old friend. Then the fire died. The light in her eyes went out and she breathed out a slow, calming sigh.

_I'm sorry, that was overstepping a line._ She apologized, hanging her head low. _I should not have said that._

Pitch allowed himself a few calming breaths. He was just agitated, he didn't need to be taking it out on the one friend he had down here. "I am… sorry too." He said, the word sorry feeling so foreign on his tongue that it took him a few seconds to get it out fully. "I shouldn't have lorded the fact that I helped you over you."

Onyx nodded in appreciation and the matter was settled.

"Now," he turned to look at the girl again. "What is so special about her hands and feet?"

Onyx moved forward until her muzzle rested just above one of the exposed hands. She reached down and pulled back a part of the black sheet that covered most of her forearm with her teeth. _That._

Pitch frowned, also leaning forward. His shadow fell across the sleeping girl's body, blending with the other shadows cast by the canopy and Onyx. He could see nothing unusual. Just plain old brown skin covering slim fingers.

The penny dropped.

Pitch blinked, wondering if it was just the light. "Brown skin?" He murmured, staring at the girl's hand in shock.

Onyx nodded. _It's the same girl,_ she told him, craning her neck and taking hold of a chunk of sheet and pulling it away to reveal the girl's face. _I can smell her scent. But she doesn't look like the same girl._

But Pitch was too busy staring at her to listen. Her expression, her skin color, even her _size_ had been transformed. She was no longer a slightly pudgy teenager. Instead, she had taken on the guise of a younger girl, about eight or nine, and skinny as a rail. Unhealthily skinny, even. Her hair- which he had originally thought to be the blonde he had seen before but now realized was black as the sheets around her, fell like ribbons of grime across her face. It was as if she was a completely different person.

Onyx watched him for a long moment, waiting for him to answer her but he remained silent. Minutes ticked by. The candles burned. She shuffled nervously. Honestly, she hadn't known what to make of the girl's transformation. It didn't mean anything to her, but she'd hoped it would to him. And it clearly did, he just wasn't in the mood for sharing. Finally, she got sick of waiting. Her breed wasn't known for their patience. _Pitch?_ She asked hesitantly. He didn't answer. _Pitch, what's wrong?_

He still didn't answer.

She sidled over to him, nudging him with her muzzle. _Pitch, please, tell me what's wrong._

Finally, he looked up at her. But instead of that pensive face she expected to see when he was thinking deeply about something, he was smiling. She took an unconscious step back. _Is…everything OK?_ She asked, a little unnerved by the smile she had only seen a few times in the thousands of years she had known him.

"Everything's fine Onyx," he replied, his eyes bright with excitement. "This just opened a few new doors in the realm of possibilities as to who she is. Thank you for showing me this." He glanced at the girl again, then turned to leave. "I will be in my library," he called over his shoulder. "Keep watching her. Come get if there's any more changes." Then he was gone.

Onyx sighed. _Well, back to baby-sitting duty_. She thought, lowering herself onto her knees and lying down with a flop and a poof of sand. The door swung shut behind Pitch, cutting off all light other than the candles, which was just fine with her. Like all other creatures of the darkness, she preferred little to no light, but after the incident earlier Pitch had ordered her to keep the candles burning. _Probably because he doesn't want to get kicked in the groin again, _she thought, pulling her lips back in a smile that would've terrified any child.

She waited for a while in the darkness, listening for the tell-tale sounds of speech or movement that told her the girl was awake and that she could finally leave to go get Pitch, but all she heard were the gentle shuffles of her rolling back and forth and the soft snores. Onyx snickered. What with the way she had been moving and rolling, it was a miracle she hadn't already fallen out of the bed.

_I wish she would,_ the Nightmare thought petulantly. _Then I might be able to get out of here and go on tonight's patrol!_

It was as if the spirits of irony had heard her prayer. Not three minutes later, Onyx's highly attuned ears heard the faint sound of springs creaking, followed by a loud thump. She was immediately on her feet and racing to the side of the bed, hoping that the girl hadn't injured herself. Pitch might tan her hide if she had.

Once she reached the bed she glanced around, looking for the girl's fallen form. There! She was lying on the ground in a huddled heap, swamped by blankets that fell over her like unending waves of obsidian water. The girl was probably suffocating, so Onyx reached forward and felt around with her muzzle. When she finally alighted on a thick clump of cloth and took it in her teeth and pulled it away. Then she took another piece and then another until finally she could see the girl's entire form. She appeared to have shifted the shape and texture of her clothes as well as her skin, judging by the brown rags that covered her body.

Onyx thought for a minute about going to get Pitch- that was what he had instructed her to do, was it not? Go find him in his library where he was doing darkness knew what if she woke up?

_But she hasn't woken up yet,_ she thought, watching the girl's slow, steady breaths. She was still asleep. _That must be some dream,_ Onyx thought idly, leaning forward to sniff the air around the girl. Though oddly, she couldn't smell any of the typical scents she associated with dreamsand. None of the earthy, natural odors or even the scent of wet sand. Just…coldness.

Coldness?

Onyx sniffed again. Just from a single whiff of the girl she could detect anguish, sadness, a little hint of desperation, not a single touch of fear, and coldness. Odd, but there was no mistaking it. It was the same scent she associated with the winter bringer boy who had become Pitch's grandson. That bitter bite, accompanied by the gentle aroma of contentment that was probably derived from her sleeping.

I wonder why she smells cold. Onyx sniffed the girl a third time. The scent was still there, but now it had been obscured by another and become a secondary scent. The sharp, delectable scent of fear. She was afraid, but of what?

_I'd better go get Pitch,_ she thought, turning around and heading for the door. Once she reached the doorway and had nudged the door open with her hoof, she glanced back at the girl. _Don't go anywhere now._ She told her with a soft nicker. Then she left.

XXXXXXXX

I waited at least five minutes after the sound of the door closing shut behind the weird horse demon thing before I dared move. Every moment was agony. My body hurt, my head hurt, and even though I wasn't waking up in _complete_ darkness this time it still was too damn dark for me to see anything past a few feet. All in all, _not_ a nice way to come back into consciousness, even if I did have a nice dream- for once, in the time I was asleep.

I laid there for what felt like hours, feeling the rock digging into my back as I struggled to lay flat and not move. My feet were numb from lack of use. I could feel each miniscule twitch sending spikes of agony through my nerves, just like when Cupcake complained about pins and needles after her own feet fell asleep. But I held it in. _Just a few more minutes,_ I told myself. _If that horse or the weird grey guy doesn't show up in the next few minutes I'm getting the hell out of here_.

The few minutes passed, and when I finally felt safe enough to move I lifted my head up.

Instant pain shot down my neck and I quickly laid back down. "Ooh," I moaned. "Damn. The dude couldn't've been nice enough to give me a pillow at least?"

Then I remembered that he had in fact given me a pillow, and a blanket, and an entire bed now that I thought about it. A bed which I was lying next to, instead of on, all because the little voice in my head suggested that I roll off to the bed.

"Yeah," I mumbled as I tried to slowly lift me head again. "I'm not listening to you about decisions regarding height anymore."Who knew a stone floor could hurt so much?

_Hey,_ the voice responded indignantly. _If you had listened to me to begin with and stalled him, you wouldn't be in this situation!_

I gritted my teeth. The pain was slowly subsiding, but the testy voice in my head didn't make it any faster. "If I had listened to you," I told it scathingly as I finally managed to sit up without making my eyes swim. "I would have jumped out the window that first night at Cupcake's and we wouldn't probably be here at all!"

The voice was silent.

I nodded firmly. "Good. Now, any bright ideas on how we're going to get the hell out of here this time?"

My mind remained impassive.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, so _that's_ how it's gonna be huh?" As I rose, pushing myself up onto my hands and knees and then finally to my feet where I had to clutch the bedpost to keep from falling, my body commenced with a chorus of creaking and moaning, objections from my joints that _clearly_ meant I was not to be walking around but I ignored them. I could worry about my old woman bones once I got out of here.

"Wherever _here_ is," I muttered ruefully, wrapping my slim fingers around the bedpost securely before I began to scan the room for exits.

Unlike the last time I had woken up, my brain wasn't inhibited by sleep or somniatic sand, though that was largely in part due to me having lain awake for so long, even if I hadn't been able to move. As I had lain there, my memories had slowly filtered back into my mind. Not the important ones I lost, mind you, but the ones of the previous night. I finally remembered how and why I had gotten down here, and who was responsible for it.

"Yeah, that creepy grey guy and his demon-horse things." I grumbled, trying to take a step forward by my feet still felt like a million tiny needles were stabbing me over and over again.

That's right. The creepy guy who had called me a spirit, and his demon nightmares that had tried to eat me. What the hell was up with that?! First the guy says I just want to know who you are, then when you run he chases you saying hey, I'm trying to help you, and finally when Karma decides to be a bitch and stick him right in your path again, instead of taking the hint of runs you down to the point of conking out in his arms. Some way of helping me. Well, at least it would make for an interesting conversation piece later.

Honestly, I didn't know what to make of him. One minute he was talking about spirits and calling himself the Boogeyman- something I was quickly learning to not discount form the realm of possibilities, the next he was chasing me and knocking me out. Though, to be fair, I _had _kneed him in the crotch.

I winced. "Yeah, I'm probably gonna be paying for that somehow later." I muttered, testing out my foot again. This time I was able to actually _move _a few feet, but then I felt myself tipping slightly forward and I quickly swiveled around, aiming for the bed post. My hand closed tightly around the indented wood and I held on for dear life, knowing that if I hit the ground from this height, I would crack something.

I sighed. Well, in spite of all his...questionable decisions, the guy had stopped that one horse thing from attacking me- no, _feeding_ off of me. That was what he called it. I remembered that from the last time I had woken up. He'd made it seem like the horse was eating me alive, but I had only felt that one bite on my hand.

I glanced down at said appendage, still bearing the scar of the bite which had almost completely scabbed over. Just one straight like across all four fingers, almost parallel to the lines in my palm which were outlined in dirt. Why had that horse tried to feed off of me? I thought horses were vegetarian. Maybe regular horses, but not these things.

I sighed. Thinking about my situation was what I needed to do right now, not wonder about the dietary needs of equine demons. If I was going to get out of here, I needed a clear head.

"The horse will be back soon," I said aloud, glancing from the door to the candles burning gently on either side of me. Talking out loud always helped me think better. "The guy will probably be with her. I should get out of here before they see me."

In spite of the pain rocketing up and down my legs, I managed to make it three feet from the bed to the middle of the room, take a short thirty second break to give my pounding heart a rest, then another three feet to the door. Once I reached it, my hand curled around the knob and opened the door a tiny fraction, just enough for me to see and hear what was going on outside in the corridor. Even though I might seem fool-hardy and reckless to those who knew me well, which were few, I was also cautious. I knew better than to just race for the exit. That would draw unneeded attention, and if I was to escape that was the _last _thing I needed.

My ear fell against the door as I listened intently, holding my breath. I could feel the vibrations of my own heartbeat as I struggled to remain calm, straining to hear signs of life. There were none. Finally, I opened the door and I was greeted by a corridor of black stone, with iron brackets every few feet housing lit torches and candles.

I glanced left, then right, wondering which way I should go. Both corridors were equally dim and gloomy-looking and neither had a speck of sunlight, but as I swiveled my head I caught the faintest sound of hooves in the distance of the right side of the passage. _More of those horses, _I thought. _Left it is then._

My progress was painfully slow. At first I couldn't move more than twenty or so steps a minute because of the pains in my feet, but as I grew more sure of my footing and the little needles started to disappear, after a while I was able to walk normally again. My progress greatly increased and with it, the condition of the scenery around me. It started getting less dark and the candles started getting more and more seldom. I grinned, redoubling my pace. That meant I was getting close to the exit. I was almost running by that time, my feet pounding against the ground and causing the walls beside me to shake violently.

I turned around a bend in the corridor. There was light coming from the other side and my hopes rose as I saw a giant wooden door set into the rock. _Big giant doors always lead to some kind of exit_, I thought happily, throwing my weight against it. I knew that just turning on the knob wouldn't be enough to open a door this big, so maybe if I pushed it open...

I bounced off the iron framing like a cat's toy, landing on my right shoulder which sent a jolt of pain through my body. I clapped my other hand over my mouth to muffle the yelp of pain that bubbled up, unbidden and cursed in as many languages as I could. Ow. That hurt.

_As if I need any more damn injuries_, I mentally grumbled, bracing myself against my good arm and sitting up. My shoulder was throbbing wildly and sent an angry shock through me when I tried to rotate it. I winced. Damn.

_Yes, damn. Who knew solid oak doors would be so solid._

I very nearly slapped myself upside the head. Nearly. "Shut…_up_." I hissed scathingly, my heart pounding like a drum against the cage of my ribs. "I do not need your smart-ass comments right now, thank you. So unless you have something helpful to contribute, kindly _bugger off_."

_OK, how about this?_ The voice said tersely. _You have to __**pull**__ it to open it, savvy?_

I did a double-take. _Wait, what? How do you know that?_

_Elementary, my dear Meggie._ The voice said, though on my end it sounded like it called me Abby. _You couldn't push it open, therefor it's either locked, or you have to pull it. And since I tend to be optimistic about such things…_

I resisted the urge to slap myself again. "Alright, alright, I get the point." I grumbled, forcing myself to my feet and walking back to the door. I scrutinized the door- which was several feet taller than me and almost three times as broad, wondering just how long it had taken to make. _A few years, at least. _I mused idly, walking back and forth to inspect it from all angles._ Maybe months to get the wood and iron, and more months to smelt it all together._ Now that I got a better look at it, I could see that the part I thought was a knob was actually a decorative piece and that there were more like it scattered across the door for added posterity.

"Interesting," I murmured, running my hand over the cool metal. It felt old. Very old and I wondered if I was in an old cathedral or something that had sank underground. "It's possible," I murmured, then frowned. "But the design of the wood doesn't look like it would be put in a cathedral."

_Forget about the design,_ the little voice hissed. _Just open it already!_

I rolled my eyes and took hold of the edge of the door, pulling with all my might. It didn't budge. I gave it a kick to get it moving, but only succeeded in hurting my toe.

"Ow." I rubbed my toe, glaring at the door. "Alright, that's it, I'm going around to another door. This one's locked." I turned around, despite the protests of the little voice in my head.

_It's just stubborn, keep at it! You'll probably get lost and he'll have to come find you! _It pleaded.

"No, I'm done." I shook my head. "I'll find another way out." I started to head back down the corridor, wondering why it wanted me to go through that door so badly, but I only managed to get a few feet before I heard a loud creak behind me and I turned around, only to come face to face with the one person I didn't want to see right at that moment.

I've got to be honest, as soon as my eyes locked with his I felt my heart leap into my throat. I swore in my head but my mouth stayed glued shut. _Shit shit shit! NOW what?! _Thankfully, he seemed to be almost as surprised as I was, and we just stood there for a long time, our gazes locked as we waited to see what the other person would do.

Finally, he spoke. "You should be resting."

I raised an eyebrow. _I've just spent at least a day sleeping, buddy. I'm not in the mood for a nap._

He took a step forward. I automatically took a step back. "Listen, I know you must be confused and frightened," he said slowly, his eyes trained on mine like a hawk's. In the darkness they had looked like a bright pair of cat's eyes, but I hadn't realized how bright they really were until now. The firelight of the torch behind me was reflected in those eyes, highlighting the rim of silver around the iris.

I frowned. _Yeah, this guy is definitely not normal. Even without the demon-horses. _He was still talking and I decided I should listen. It might give me a clue as to how to get out of here.

"-sorry for any distress I might've caused. My Nightmares can be unruly at times." He finished, grinning at me in what I assumed was an offer of apology. I didn't grin back. In fact, I didn't say a word. He took another step forward. "Please, I just want to help you." He said, holding out his hand. "I've never met a spirit like you before, and I want to learn more about you."

My frown deepened. Again with the spirit thing. What the hell was this guy, some weirdo hippie hermit that lived underground? Was he talking about my soul, like with that whole aura thing Cupcake was talking about a few weeks ago?

He lowered his hand and I could see a different type of smile on his face now. It was sideways, more like a knowing smirk than a smile. "Ah, I see. You don't know about your spirit status yet, do you?" He asked slowly, looking me up and down. His eyes were scrutinizing me like a piece of meat and I suddenly felt very vulnerable. I wasn't even paying attention to what he was talking about any more. He was obviously a madman, and my only priority right now should be getting away from him.

So that's what I did. Or, at least what I _attempted_ to do. I waited until he was talking again, and right in the middle of his sentence I bolted back down the corridor, hoping that he wouldn't notice I was gone until he finished speaking.

He noticed. Before I had even gone more than six or seven steps, I felt a hand on my arm. _Damn he's fast_, I thought as he swung me around to face him.

"You aren't getting away from me that easily missy," he told me, reaching for my other arm but I twisted and ducked, sliding out of his grip as easily as if I were transparent.

_Evidently I am._ I thought smugly, leaping backwards as nimbly as a person half my size, then turning and taking off down the hallway.

I didn't even hear the sand this time, I was so focused on getting out of here. The pounding of my heart and the flutter of hope inside my chest drowned out everything but the pounding of my feet on the ground. It was so quick that I didn't even realize he had put me to sleep with that black sand which I was rapidly learning to hate until I opened my eyes. I have a vague memory of being picked up and carried, which was probably due to my internal will fighting off that sand, then laid down again somewhere cold that made me shiver. Or maybe that was the iron cuffs around my wrists.

I was aware of the cuffs as soon as I scrambled back into consiousness from the gargantuan pit of darkness that the damn sand has slung me into. Initially it scared me- I mean, what female likes waking up in chains in a place she knows nearly nothing about, with the guy that chained her up right there in the room? -but as I slowly slid my arms back and forth, testing the length and strength of the bands, I realized they weren't that thick at all! More like _ribbons _than anything.

I tried to look down at them, but when I opened my eyes I was so discombobulated by the change in scenery that I had to immediately shut them.

I swore. "Damn. Damn damn damn damn damn." I used plenty of other colorful verbs, but I won't repeat them here. Even with my eyes closed, I could see the red film of light behind my eyelids that suggested I was in a much brighter room than before. I turned my head slightly to the left and the red faded somewhat. _Ugh… was that all just another hellish nightmare?_ I wondered, tilting my head downward onto my chest, all while still keeping my eyes closed. I wouldn't doubt it. It was getting harder and harder to tell the difference between waking and dreaming the longer I stayed down here.

Finally, after a few minutes I got up the strength to open my eyes and when I did, I found myself staring straight into a pair of familiar golden eclipse eyes. I screamed. Can you blame me?

The guy leaped back as if I had tried to bite him, then he recovered himself and came closer to me. "Please, I'm not going to hurt you." He said, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace.

I squirmed to get as far away from him as I could without scraping my wrists on the chains that bound me. My mouth opened and unbidden words leaked out. "No, no! Get away from me!" _Damn! _I cursed again. _Why had I spoken?_

He seemed to take it all in stride. "Listen," he said slowly, as if he were talking to an invalid. "I'm sorry I had to knock you out, and I'm sorry I had to chain you up. But if I hadn't, you would still be trying to escape and I can't have that. Not until I learn who you are."

I gave him one of my patented glares-o-doom- as Cupcake had so eloquently named the expression that slipped onto my face when I was so furious I wanted to rip something in two.

He gave me a small smile and offered, "If it makes you feel any better, I could've put you in one of my cages."

The glare-o-doom was instantly replaced with a look of terror that spread across my entire face. _Cages?_

His eyes widened to match mine as he realized what he had done and he swore, turning away. "Damn, that was stupid. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that." He reached for my hand again and I flinched. His hand faltered, watching as I tried my hardest to keep away from him. "I...haven't been around children your age in a long time," he admitted quietly, keeping his gaze lowered. "I have a grandson and there's a young boy a little younger than you that I sometimes go to visit, but other than that I don't really have any experience actually _talking _to children. _Scaring _them yes, but..." he trailed off, finally glancing up at me with an unsure smile.

I looked back at him, reverting my expression to blank default. I honestly wasn't sure what to make of this guy now. I mean he was perplexing before, but right now, with all his talk of children and scaring them- not to mention his earlier comments about spirits and auras, he was downright _mystifying_.

He noticed. "What's that look for?" He asked, his eyes trained on my face now as he watched intently. "I told you I'm the Boogeyman, right?"

I didn't respond.

Another smile cracked his lips. "You don't believe me." It was a statement, not a question.

I shook my head. _No. What I do believe is that you're a psycho who stalks kids and believes they have magical powers. Now, that's not to say that magic is out of the question, because I'm living proof that is it not, but I'll believe it when I see it._

He nodded in response, that weirdly alluring smile still cradled on his lips. "I don't blame you." He replied, shrugging. "Honestly, I don't. I know how hard it can be to accept a fate that you don't fully understand, and it's even harder when you don't have a guide." Before I could flinch or pull my arm away, he reached forward and slipped his hand into mine. "But I managed it, and now I'm offering to help you." He told me, his strange eclipse eyes staring into mine.

As soon as our fingers made contact I felt a sharp zap and a wave of energy washed over me, starting from my hand and rolling up my arm, leaving my hair standing on end as if charged with static shock. An image flashed in front of my vision, only appearing for a second before I blinked and it was gone, but in that second I could clearly make out the man sitting in front of me. He was looming over two other figures huddled on the ground, one the size of an adult and the other a young child. The image vanished before I could make out their features, but I could distinctly see the man's eyes glowing in the darkness. They looked hungry, and angry.

I yanked my hand away with a yelp at the same time he pulled his own hand back, holding it by the wrist as if he had been hurt by the shock. I saw the same look of anger on his face as I had in the vision and a foreign voice leaked from my mouth. It wasn't a voice I recognized- certainly one I had never heard before, but regardless of its origin the voice squirmed its way out of my lips in the form of an exclamation of fear. "Demon of the Dark Ages!"

The man leaped back from me as if he had been bitten. He scrambled away on his hands and knees, staring at me with wide open eyes that, when I looked into them, held not surprise, but fear. _Fear? _I thought, wondering what he possibly had to be afraid of. But that was what I saw in his eyes and his body language. His chest was heaving and his face had gone death-pale. Even paler than it normally was. He looked utterly terrified of something.

Then the expression vanished. He closed his eyes, toaking a few deep, slow breaths to calm himself as he slowly sat back up. He was a bit farther form me than he had been, but not far enough away for me to miss the words quietly slipping from his lips.

"Where did you hear that title?" He asked, his eyes trained on mine like a hawk's, watching every move I made.

I didn't answer him. There was an undertone in his voice that I didn't like. It was almost as if he didn't want to hear the answer, even though he had asked me.

When I didn't respond his expression grew steely. "Tell me!" He demanded sharply. I winced. "_Where _did you _hear that title?_"

I didn't respond. I wasn't exactly _afraid _any more, but something inside me told me that it wouldn't be a good idea to tell him. Besides, I wasn't sure myself where I had pulled that title from. It was certainly one I had never heard before, which made it all the more confusing that he should react so strongly. Maybe it was something he had been called a long time ago. Maybe it was a nick-name given to him by someone he loved and lost- though I doubted it. You could hardly walk in the door and say, "Hey Demon of the Dark Ages, what's for dinner?"

He waited patiently for me to respond, but when I didn't he simply sighed and the anger drained away. "It's alright," he told me tiredly. "You can tell me when you're ready. I can wait." He reached back behind him and picked something up that I couldn't see. When he turned back, I saw a small black tray in his hands. "I brought you food," he explained, holding out the tray. There was a small bowl of fruit, a few pieces of bread and a glass of water.

_Oh gods, _I thought, trying not to drool. _Food! _I had to fight as hard as I could to keep from snatching it out of his hands, though the chains would've prevented me from doing so as I found out briefly afterwards. _OK, OK, calm down. _I told myself. _You can't let yourself betray any positive emotions. Otherwise he'll teach you to be dependant on him._

You can tell I had read far too many kidnapper stories with Cupcake.

I looked at the food critically, then glanced up at him as if to say, you really expect me to eat this?

He glanced at the food, then shrugged. "I...wasn't sure what you would like," he said apologetically. "So I brought a little bit of everything I had."

I, being the accomplished actress I am, manged a perfect shrug of evident distaste and disinterest. But it was ruined by the loud grumbling form my stomach. I scowled. _Thanks for that stomach. _

He smiled, pushing the tray towards me. "Here, eat. You'll be of no use to me if you starve."

I reached for the tray, but the chains around my wrists stopped me. I raised my arm, shaking the chains that bound me and giving him a cold look.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said and it sounded like he really did mean it. "But I can't have you running off again. I'll push it closer so that you can eat, and once you're recovered I want to ask you a few more questions."

I rolled my eyes, pulling of the perfect _I don't really give a damn _look and gesturing towards the tray. He obliged and soon I was munching on a nice, ripe, juicy pear. The juice ran down my chin and I licked my lips, savoring the excessively sweet essences of the pear. It felt like I hadn't eaten in ages! Once I finished gnawing on the pear, which I ate down to the peel, I flung it aside and started on an apple which lay in the basket, taking massive chomps in between breaths.

While I was mowing down on his fruit, the guy that had brought it to me was leaning back on his heels and regarding me thoughtfully. I didn't realize it until I reached for a piece of bread and caught his eyes. I froze, my hand inches from the crust and we stared at each other for a moment before he smiled and leaned in, taking a pear. Only when he brought it to his lips and took a small bite did I unfreeze and take the slice I had been reaching for. I brought the chunk of bread to my lips but, instead of delving in as before, I ate slowly and watched him as I did so.

Conterary to how he had looked only moments before, the man before me was seated cross-legged in a calm, tranquil position that exuded peace and balance of mind. Pear in one hand, the other with an empty palm lying on his knee, he struck me as a person who didn't _like _to get angry, but did it far too often for him to be able to control it.

I took another bite of my bread, looking him up and down as subtly as I could. This seemed like a good time to study him, know your enemy and all that. His outfit hadn't changed. Same weird man-dress thingy that seemed to receed into the shadows as my eyes followed the folds of cloth stretching out on either side of his folded legs. It also, I noticed for the first time, appeared to have an infinite plunging neckline that was either a very dangerous fashion statement or just plain weird.

I tried not to chuckle as my eyes drifted down to his feet. They looked like flippers covered in black socks! Or, were those leggings? He appeared to be wearing pants, but his outfit was so outrageous and the fabric so close to his apparently natural skin color that I couldn't tell for sure.

Not that I was a one to talk. I glanced down at myself in between bites of food and I nearly dropped my bread. I was a bloody frikking mess! My shirt was torn, my pants were so ripped that my knees were almost as dark as my jeans, and I was absolutely filthy!

_I wonder if he'll let me take a bath, _I mused thoughtfully as I took another piece of bread in my mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. Maybe, if I stayed on his good side and answered a few of his questions, maybe he would let me. Then I thought, _nah. I'm not going to say a word until I get something for it. _And that something was going to be better than a bath.

After a few long minutes of silence, he spoke. "For a young spirit, you seem to have adapted quite well to your powers." He said quietly, watching me as he took another bite of his pear.

I shrugged. Not strictly true, but let him think what he liked. Honestly, the last three monthes had been more finding out that I had powers than learning how they worked.

He noticed my espression and his eyebrow raised just a fraction. "You doubt your abilities?"

I shrugged again. I still wasn't entirely sure this wasn't some crazy dream. All of it. My powers, Cupcake, him, everything.

He nodded slowly. I could practically see the gears of his mind moving in syncronized harmony as he processed the minor bits of information I was giving him, piecing them together with his own thoughts and ideas about me. He was a clever one, that was evident from the ways he had caught me. But, behind those eclipse eyes I sensed a darker soul. One that had been through far more than I in my few years alive.

Then I shook my head. _What the hell was that?! Am I turning into a philosopher? _

An amused smile was creasing the man's ashen lips. "You seem very...conflicted." He remarked, watching not my face, but my hand. I glanced down at it and realized I had been tapping my fingers on the stone floor absentmindedly.

_Jeez, am I fidgity or what?_

I nodded. Yeah, conflicted was a word for it. Irritated was a better one.

He smiled. "Well, even if you won't tell me your name or who you are, I'm sure we will become- if not freinds, then at least aquaintences."

I rolled my eyes, taking another bite of pear. Keep dreaming pal, keep dreaming.


	6. Alyss In Chains

**Hey gang, I'm baaack! First of all, huuuge thanks to the beautiful talented Xion5 for finally dragging herself back to the unavoidable pit of awesomeness that is Fanfiction! The review was wonderful, thank you so much for reading it and yes, the dream sequence was indeed one of my favorites. I hope you like this one just as much.**

**And speaking of my wonderful reviewers, thank you Black3st Night I have never heard so many wonderful compliments in my life! I am truly pleased that I have affected you in such a wonderful way and that you like my story that much. As for the creative writing talent I can tell you right now, I only have a fraction of what my friend Xion5 has. By the way, this chapter is dedicated all to you! Thank you for the wonderful review. **

**To my great bud Fanty, yes I tried to do a real Indian outfit justice. And yes, Pitch's dreaming is going to play an interesting role in the days to come. Meggie's powers are a little more complicated than that, but you'll see what I mean in a bit. For now, I hope this helps ease the excitement!**

* * *

Pitch was forced to leave not long after she finished off the food. Though he had a lot of questions that were hammering against his skull and begging to be asked, he knew that she wouldn't respond very well and would probably just curl up into a little reclusive ball of fear and anger. Which he wouldn't blame her for in the least. Even though he was trying his best not to scare her, he could still feel the fear practically radiating from her as she shoveled the food into her mouth. Yes, she was afraid, but she wasn't going to admit it.

"Hungry huh?" He asked, watching as she took a huge chomp out of the apple and then a massive swig of water that would've shamed a fish.

She glanced up, her eyes trained on his before she nodded once. Then her attention turned back to her food.

_She's like a cat, _he thought idly as he watched her bare foot tap agitatedly on the rock. _Defensive, ever-moving, even when she's chained down._

He hated seeing her chained up, but he had to reason that it was for her own good! If he had just left her along she would've ended up just like Jack or even him, if she was left along long enough. Anti-social, brooding; she was already showing signs of being defensive and angry, so it was a good thing he had gotten to her when he had.

"So," he said quietly, trying to draw her out of her little shell. "Are you going to tell me your name?"

She stopped eating instantly, as if his words had frozen her in terror. He waited for five second, then ten, wondering if she was too angry or too afraid to answer him. Then she raised her head and he instantly knew that she wasn't afraid. She was angry.

"I'm sorry," he said, quickly retreating and raising his hands in surrender. "I just wanted to know if there was something I could call you."

She gave him that very unnerving glare, holding his gaze for about a minute before she dropped her eyes and started in on her food again. He sighed. It was going to be in a long, tedious process, but he was bound and determined to figure out who she was. Even if she didn't tell him, he would find out.

She finished off the food in less than ten minutes. He picked up the tray with the empty bowl and cup, looking at them thoughtfully and then at the girl. She appeared to still be very hungry, and he asked her about it.

"Would you like more?" He asked, gesturing with the tray. He knew from personal experience that visual interpretations were much better than verbal ones when it came to under-confident people.

She looked at the tray for a moment, then nodded hesitantly.

He nodded back and whistled for a Nightmare to come take the tray. Onyx appeared and walked over to them so that he could give her the empty tray. He did so, setting the empty tray, bowl and cup in a small pouch that was hanging off her back from a saddle he had made specifically for traveling on long journeys. As he patter her mane, telling her what a good horse she was and telling her what to get next he noticed that the girl shirked away a little when the horse drew nearer, and when she disappeared back through the shadows to fulfill her duties she visibly relaxed.

He raised an eyebrow. "I take it you don't care much for my helpers?" He asked, slightly amused by how jumpy she was. Then he shook his head. _No, that's __**not **__funny! Seeing her scared is __**not funny! **_He sighed. _Too many years being the Boogeyman, I guess._

"You seem conflicted too."

His head snapped up and he stared straight into her eyes, hardly believing his luck. Had he really just heard her...?

"Did you just..." His voice petered out. She was giving him that look again. The same look she had given him when he had caught her the second time. The confident, snarky, _I know something but I'm not telling you _look. He had to smile. That look reminded him so much of Jack. "Never mind. I know you said something, but I also know that you're trying to distract me from answering my question."

The corner of her lip lifted just a fraction, but it was enough to encourage him to keep talking to her. She seemed to be in a better mood, now that she had eaten, and he wanted to take advantage of that as much as he could.

"Have you ever seen one of my Nightmares before?" He asked. Maybe this generic question could give him some more information about how old she was, _without _getting her all cranky.

She shook her head.

Pitch frowned. _Hmm, she __**must **__be young then_. "Ah. I see. Well, did your parents ever tell you about the Boogeyman when you were younger? Do I match the description?"

He could tell instantly that he had made a mistake in asking her. Her head snapped up and he almost flinched. Her eyes were narrowed to dark, venomous slits and she had a scowl on her lips that would've curdled his blood, if he hadn't seen far worse in his lifetime.

"Um...sorry." He offered lamely. Obviously family was a sore spot with her. Maybe they hadn't become spirits along with her, like Jack's family hadn't. She had probably watched them grow old and die before her eyes while she remained young and unchanged.

She shrugged, turning her face away from him and he thought he was a small tear rolling down her face. "Hey," he said, reaching for her shoulder. "It's OK. I lost most of my family too when I became a spirit. It's not an uncommon thing."

She let out a snarl that would've shamed many a lion and jerked her shoulder away from his hand. "Leave me alone!"

He sighed, letting his hand slip back to his side. "Alright, alright I'll stop pushing. But you can't hide from it forever."

They sat in silence for a bit, Pitch watching her intently, reading her body language and trying to determine more about her while she sat stonily, her face hidden by her hair and her gaze firmly fixed on the wall, as if she were trying to bore a hole through which she could escape with just the power of her acidic stare alone. And, if Onyx hadn't come along bearing a full tray of food and water, she might've succeeded.

Pitch took the tray from her back and slid it over to the girl. The water in the cup sloshed slightly over the rim and he apologized, but she didn't seem to care. She pounced on the food just as eagerly as she had before, digging her teeth into a pear that Onyx had brought from his kitchens while simultaneously trying to peel an orange.

Pitch watched her with mild amusement. Most spirits didn't need to eat to survive, but some, like North, chose to do it because they enjoyed it. Spirits that weren't entirely human in origin, like Bunny and Tooth, might have to do it to satisfy their natural needs, but humanoid ones like him and Jack didn't need it to survive. Apparently this girl hadn't figured that out yet.

"You'll get sick if you eat too much too fast." He warned her as she tried stuffing a whole orange in her mouth and only succeeding in dribbling juice down her front. "Not to mention seeds aren't particularly pleasant to eat."

She stopped her feast for just a seconds to give him a look that clearly said she didn't give a damn about his opinions or counsel, which he had expected, before her attention fell back to her food.

He shrugged. "Alright, just wanted to warn you. That's my job, after all."

She rolled her eyes and he could've sworn she muttered something like, uh huh, sure.

"It's true. My job, as a spirit, is to keep children safe by using their nightmares to teach them what to be afraid and what not to be afraid of." He told her, hoping that by explaining his role she might believe him better.

She didn't. In fact she didn't even look up at him as he continued telling her about what made him so important to the human world, how and why he'd been chosen and what his job as a Guardian of Childhood was. He decided to omit certain facts from his history, like his role in the Dark Ages and what he had done in his early years. But everything else he was completely honest about.

He told her about the Nightmare War, Jack and the others, and about how the Man in the Moon had helped him find his true purpose afterwards. It took several hours, and by the time he was done the only time she even made a sign of recognition was when he mentioned the Man in the Moon. But even then it was only a slight narrowing of her eyes which quickly vanished as she noticed him watching her.

"I'm telling you the truth," he told her seriously, trying to keep his temper in check. He had been trying to explain the relationship between belief and spirits, but she had just rolled her eyes and let out a disbelieving snort, as if he were spouting complete rubbish. "Really. Once you learn of your purpose and I let you back out into the world, all this can save your life!"

She chuckled. "Right."

Pitch's temper flared. "You don't know what its like," he told her angrily, gesturing with his hand at the open door. "Out there. You haven't met any other spirits yet, and you're lucky! If you had acted around certain spirits that I know like you're acting around me, you would be either killed or imprisoned, or worse!"

She hunched her shoulders, clearly agitated by what he was saying. _Good, _he thought with savage satisfaction. _Maybe __**this **__will get it through her head that there are far worse people than me out there to deal with._

It had definitely made an impression on her, that he could tell by how tense her shoulders were and how she kept her face turned away from him. But he doubted she believed him fully. He sighed, running a hand through his hair tiredly. Normally he would be asleep right now, waiting for the night to come again or in his library, reading. But no, he was sitting on a cold stone floor, trying to reason with a teenage spirit.

_Why?! _His sanity begged. _Why __**for Manny's sake **__do you care so much about one little spirit girl that doesn't even care about what you have to say?! She doesn't even know what kind of spirit she is!_

_Neither did I for the longest time, _he told his sanity. _That's not something I should hold against her._

Pitch let out a slow breath, waiting for himself to calm down before he could speak again. "Look, I know that you might not believe me about all of this, and quite frankly I don't know why I'm telling you any of this to begin with..." Dammit, he was starting to ramble. _Focus Black! Focus! _"But, every bit of it can help you when you're a new spirit roaming the world. So whither you decide to listen to me or not, at least I've told you."

She huffed. A strand of her hair was blown away from her face by the small gust of air, revealing a single brown eye.

That reminds me...

"Hey, I was just wondering," he began, making sure to keep his voice steady and calm. "Are you keeping your form like that on purpose or is it your natural form?"

She frowned, looking down at herself as if to ask, _what, this? _Then her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened in absolute terror as she stared at her dark brown hands which she held in front of her face, splayed wide and turning them over, as if they were the fingers of a stranger.

So, it wasn't intentional then.

"Please, don't be scared. I know how unnerving having your powers react without the ability to control them," he told her quickly, reaching forward to grip her shoulder. Sometimes it helped him to have an anchor to the real world when your powers were getting the best of you. "But there's no reason to be afraid. Your powers are a part of you, and-" he stopped. "What are you doing?"

She had closed her eyes again and had clasped her hands around her knees, rocking back and forth slowly. He watched her for a moment, then asked again. She didn't answer him. _Is she trying to change back?_ He wondered, scanning her for any sign of change in her form or skin tone. He thought he saw a slight lightening of skin around her eyes but, other than that, nothing.

"If you are trying to change back," he said slowly, seeing an opportunity for him to help her and possibly gain her trust. "It helps focus your mind if you think on a pleasant memory. I know you might not have a lot of those, but try to find one. One of you with your family, perhaps. Or laughing with some good friends."

Pitch didn't even see it coming. One instant she was sitting there rocking back and forth, curled up into a little ball, the next she was lunging towards him, her hands hooked like jagged claws and he had to rely on split-second instinct to keep himself from getting lacerated.

He fell against the ground, his heart racing. "What the-" but his words were cut short by another ferocious attempt to eviscerate him which he had to dodge. Thankfully, many years of fighting and a few months of sparring with North and Aster had conditioned him with quick enough reflexes to avoid the violent attacks which, though they were a bit sloppy, were fueled with anger and as such had enough power behind them that they didn't need to be coordinated. He dodged attack after attack, rolling back and forth like a five-year-old in Karate class. Then finally, when he managed to get away from her he stood, backing a few steps away before he asked, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

She snarled, yanking violently at the chains and trying to break free, but they were too tight. "LET ME GO!" She screamed, kicking her bare feet out at him.

He dodged the kick easily. "No." he told her firmly. "Something is wrong, and I'm not leaving until-"

He was cut short by a blood-curdling scream which leaped forth from the girl as she fell sideways onto the ground, her body thrashing and jerking from the invisible spasms of pain. He watched, dumbfounded as she yelled and kicked as if she were fighting off hordes of demons but there was nothing there. Only her own internal pain.

_She's starting to change,_ he thought, his eyes unwavering as through the spasms, her body began to grow and contort. Her limbs stretched out and her skin faded from the dark brown skin of the child to the lighter skin of the teenager. Her hair shriveled and fell to the ground, turning into dust that was welcomed into the damp rock ground and the new hair began to sprout from her head at an accelerated rate which was apparently quite painful for the girl, as she wailed like a banshee.

Pitch felt his heart breaking as he saw the spasms growing weaker. She wasn't screaming as much, but the muffled whimpers of agony and the sound of her crying was almost worse. _I wish I could help her,_ he thought, watching sadly as she curled in on herself. Her back was to him and she wasn't moving, but she was clearly back in her original form, as he could see from her purple hair and pale skin which glistened in the firelight with sweat.

Pitch waited a tentative few seconds before approaching her, even though the parental instinct portion of his mind screamed at him to help her. But his common sense told him that if she wasn't in full control of herself she might hurt him accidentally- hell, she would probably hurt him if she was on full control of her powers, out of fear and anger. But, regardless, he knew the anguish and self-torment one would go through after hurting another being accidentally, and he wasn't going to put her through that.

He took a step forward, one of his massive strides that were probably three human strides, and within two more he was at her side, kneeling hesitantly and shaking her shoulder. "Hey, are you alright? Can you hear me?"

No response.

"Hey!" He said, a little louder. "Girl, are you conscious?"

No, she wasn't. The pain had knocked her out.

Pitch sighed, pulling away and resting on the balls of his feet as he contemplated his new situation. She was out cold, probably still feeling the effects of her change, and he was sure the cold stone floor wasn't helping.

_I can't leave her here,_ he thought as he noticed her starting to shiver. _She'll catch her death of cold! _But he couldn't take the chains off either, or she would try to escape again! It was a powerful dilemma, one that he had never ever in a million years thought he would be mentally debating, and he wasn't sure what he should do. _Maybe I should go tell the others,_ he mused, glancing up at the ceiling. They had more experience in dealing with children than he did, after all.

_Are you forgetting the Nightmare war? Those morons didn't have the first clue how to treat children._

Pitch jumped. "Onyx!"

The obsidian horse which had been standing behind him for the better part of ten minutes snickered. _You're getting old Pitch,_ she told him, sidling over to him and pushing her nose underneath his hand. _If you can't detect one of us sneaking up on you I think it's time to retire._

He rubbed her muzzle gently, smiling in spite of himself. "Isn't that why I created you?" He asked, giving her nose a scratch which made her snuffle with pleasure. "To keep me on my toes?"

She leaned her huge head against his chest and neck, her warm breath instantly providing a sense of comfort that none of the other Nightmares had ever given him_. Oh, and here I thought it was because you needed a hobby._

Pitch chuckled, rubbing her smooth neck. In spite of her being made from sand, she felt and acted just like any real horse would. "Alchemy isn't a _hobby_, Onyx." He chided her. "It's an exact science that took me many years to fully comprehend the boundaries."

_And when you did actually succeed in an experiment it was because of sheer dumb luck._

Pitch pulled his hand away, scowling. "I am _sooo_ under-appreciated," he muttered, turning his attention back to the girl. "Now, while I'm glad for your company and conversation, there is a more pressing matter to attend to."

Onyx looked down, finally noticing the girl. She stepped forward, pushing on her shoulder with her muzzle. Pitch waited to see what would happen with baited breath but she didn't move. Onyx glanced back at him.

_So, I see your charm, wit and good looks have knocked another female dead._ She quipped.

Pitch raised an eyebrow. "Have you been spending time with Jack?" He asked, wondering where she had gotten this new-found less than dry sense of humor.

She shook her head. _Nope. Just watching a lot of Comedy Central. You should have never gotten cable by the way. The signal is shit._

Pitch opened his mouth to ask her to elaborate, then he shook his head and put it out of his mind. "We'll come back to this later," he promised. "But for now, what am I going to do with her?" He gestured at the girl helplessly.

She tossed her head in what was a Nightmare's equivalent of a shrug. _I don't know, get a glass of water and throw it at her?_

Pitch sighed dejectedly. "I've _tried_ waking her up but she's in deep sleep, way past dreaming and almost into the realm of comatose! If she sleeps anymore she's going to get sucked into the void and her consciousness will be lost!"

Onyx tossed her head again_. Then why don't you try going into her mind through a nightmare and talk to her that way? _She asked patiently, though her master's pigheadedness was grating on her nerves. _That way you can be in control, and she can't hurt you. You might even get to learn a little more about her from the context of the nightmare._

The Nightmare King rolled his eyes. "It's not as simple as that On-" Then he stopped, mulling her advice over. "Actually…" he murmured quietly, watching the girl's huddled form as the cogs of his brain began to whirr and revolve, grinding out some small facsimile of an idea which took root and began to grow like a seed in his thoughts. He would have to time it perfectly, that was for certain. The bad dreams induced by his inkquitious sand weren't like the Sandman's benign dreams where you could enter any time. They were private and solitary, never wanting to give way to spectators was just part of their nature. But for him, they made an exception.

Onyx nodded, pulling her lips back in a Nightmare's hideous interpretation of a grin. He was getting it now. _So, are you going to try_? She asked eagerly.

Pitch bobbed his head in ascent, slowly turning around to face the obsidian horse but never taking his eyes off of the girl. "Yes, I'm going to try. Will you keep watch, in case the others smell her fear and come looking?"

She agreed, trotting quietly over to the door and turning so that her flank barred any from entering or exiting. Let the others just _try_ to get past her.

Pitch nodded his thanks, turning his full attention back on the girl. Her exposed arms were bubbling with goosebumps and she was curled up into such a tight little ball that he was slightly worried about her ability to breathe. Then he remembered that she was a spirit and that they didn't need breath. He leaned forward, brushing the violet-colored hair away from her face gently until he could make out her forehead. She looked so scared, he thought idly as he prepared to delve into her mind. Though, oddly enough there wasn't a single grain of sand touching her, and he didn't sense any Nightmares nearby, apart from Onyx. Strange.

He laid his large, spidery hand on her forehead, like a father checking a child's fever and closed his eyes, letting a few slim tendrils of sand leak from his fingertips. This was a delicate process, and he wanted it done right if he was going to help her. If she had been a normal human, this might've been a bit easier. But she wasn't. She was a spirit, and the minds of spirits tended to be much more complicated than those of mundane humans, as his past experiences in regaining his memories had taught him. He had had to dive deep, wrenching the heartache from his mind and casting it out like a disease before his memories had finally returned, with Manny's help of course. This wouldn't be easy.

"If you hear either one of us scream," he told Onyx quietly, sending the first gentle probes of sand into her consciousness, searching for an inlet. "Don't worry. It'll probably be her."

Onyx tilted her head to the side. _Just what is it you are planning to do to this girl? _She asked but it was too late. The sand had found its way in and he was already deep into the many passageways and interconnected thought railroads that are a spirit's mind. She snorted softly, slightly worried. Not for the girl's sake of course, but for her masters'. She'd seen that girl fight before, and wouldn't be surprised in the least if he came out looking like he'd just gone ten rounds with a garbage disposal.

Time passed second by crawling second. Each minute was another daunting step closer to the girl's consciousness being lost to the void, but Onyx had faith that he would bring her back. Pitch wasn't one to be deterred when something was on his mind, especially when it came to the safety of people he cared about. Even if he barely knew the girl, it was obvious he cared about her and her well-being. Even if he didn't know why.

She sighed. _He's taking an awful long time just to talk to her, _she thought silently, watching her master and the girl. Pitch appeared to have his eyes closed and his hand remained glued to her forehead, never moving an inch. The girl, on the other hand, wasn't so still. Onyx could hear her little snuffling noises as she jerked and twisted beneath Pitch's hand, but she never rolled far enough to detach herself.

_Oh, I would give anything to be able to see what was going on inside that girl's head right now!_ Onyx shuffled her hooves anxiously. Though she could smell the flavorful aroma of fear rolling off of the girl like smoke, there were no distinct sources of fear which she could detect. Everything was so muddled and mixed together like a potion, creating even more sources of fear that confused and disoriented her. She shook her head to clear it, trying to eject the intoxicating aromas of fear which she had been starved of for so long. _I need to stay sharp and alert. Pitch ordered me to protect the girl, and I will follow that order dammit!_

Though she needn't have been so hard on herself, as Pitch woke up not three minutes later.

It began slowly. He opened his eyes, blinking a few times as he stared straight ahead, his mind still half in the grips of whatever he had seen. Onyx watched patiently as he eased his mind back into the world around him. The hand dropped from her forehead and she mumbled. Pitch's gaze snapped down to her face and Onyx blinked in surprise as the most pitiful, melancholy, forlorn and woebegone look that she had _ever_ seen cross the Boogeyman's fine features fell across his face. He looked utterly dejected, as if what he had seen had topped all other horrors he had seen in his ten thousand years.

Onyx waited for a few seconds before she dared approach her master. _So?_ She asked, taking a step forward. _What did you see?_

He didn't respond. Onyx's eyes, which could see as well in the dark as any sniper scope, could clearly see the tension of his body, as if he were ready to spring into a fight at the slightest provocation. The hand that had slipped from the girl's forehead was clenched and the other laid on his lap, fingers bent with his nails digging into his leg.

_He's not angry,_ she thought, her eyes never leaving him as she took another step forward. _He's furious!_

_Pitch?_ She asked again hesitantly, scared of her master for the first time in her long, long existence. Something that he had seen had made him go from gucci to enraged in five seconds flat and whatever it was, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

He took a long, slow breath, his hands relaxing a little. When he spoke, his voice was riddled with forced calm. "We need to help her Onyx." He told her softly. His undertone of sadness which was perfectly audible and matched his mask-like expression.

Onyx bobbed her head. It was final then. There was no arguing with that voice. Not that she even _wanted_ to argue! Actually, she was starting to like the girl. Her spunk and the way she acted around Pitch was…_refreshing_ to say the least. A nice reprieve from the usual screaming or- as was in most cases these days after than damn movie had achieved stardom, fangirling. _I agree._ She told him, walking over to his side. She was no longer afraid any more. His anger had passed. Now he was just…was sad the word? Maybe. _And, since you are a Guardian of Childhood now you should_ _be helping her any way._

"She's not a child." His voice was so quiet that even her sensitive ears could barely detect it. "She's a teenager. Sixteen years old, I think."

Onyx nodded. _So you did go into her memories. Did you talk to her? Did you see anything interesting or useful?_

He shook his head. "I couldn't. The Nightmare would only let me watch her." The unsaid words rang in the air. _But it was enough._ "As for her memories, I could only scratch the surface. Her memories were protected by a huge lattice of walls and barriers that refused to let me past them."

_Like your memories, before you freed them?_

"No. Mine were caged by the Fearlings." Pitch explained. "I knew that they were there, but I couldn't reach them because of the cages that the Fearlings had created specifically to block me. The girl _knows_ she's missing her memories, but at the same time she is the one who is suppressing them consciously. And her barriers are infinitely more complex than mine."

OK, _now_ she was curious. _How so?_ She asked.

He shrugged. "I only glimpsed a fraction of it to be honest, but from what I could see they didn't just represent mental barriers. They represented physical barriers that she had dealt with in her lifetime, and there were a lot of them." He broke off, sighing. "This girl has been through some traumatic things. Things so terrible that she is forcing herself to forget in order to maintain mental sanity and I _can't _just let that be!"

Onyx saw that his fists were white with how tightly he was clenching them and his eyes had been drawn into narrow slits. _Wow, this is really hitting home for you, isn't it? _She asked, walking over to him and laying her head down over his shoulder. She pushed at his hand until he raised it up and started stroking her, but it was more for his benefit than hers.

He nodded, closing his eyes as his fist unclenched and he slid his hand down her neck. He didn't verbally respond, but he didn't need to. She had known him for thousands and thousands of years, if he was even a squick unhappy she would know. If he was the _tiniest_ bit annoyed she could feel it through their strong bond, forged from countless adventures with each other and untold numbers of years as friends. In short, she knew. Even if he wasn't telling.

Minutes passed and the girl started to shiver again. Pitch stared on blankly, his mind far away in unknown places which she dared not penetrate.

_Pitch,_ Onyx prodded gently, bumping her nose against his hand to remind him that there were more important things at hand than moping about past troubles. _She's starting to get cold._

Pitch blinked, coming back out of his memories. "Right, yes." He stood. "What should I do with her?"

Onyx gestured to the bed not far away. _Well, the smart thing to do would be to get her out of those chains and into the warm bed._ She began but immediately he interrupted.

"I can't, she already tried to run at least three times, and I can't risk her leaving!" He said, gesturing to her chains. "Those are probably the only thing keeping her here now!"

She gave him the most unimpressed deadpan look a nightmare can give. _Pitch, just transfer the chains to the bed! _She told him exasperatedly_. Really, it's not __**that**__ hard. This way she'll be comfortable and feel safer and you can keep an eye on her!_

He opened his mouth to argue, then he realized just how brilliant a plan it was and he shut his mouth.

Onyx tossed her head proudly. _There you go._ She told him firmly, casting a side-long glance at the girl. _Now you'd better hurry, before the cold wakes her up._

Pitch snapped back to reality and quickly set about transferring the girl to the bed. Onyx watched impassively as he pulled the chains out of the wall and transferred them back to the wall behind the bed, carrying the girl with him. He laid her down on the bed gently so as not to disturb her, put a blanket over her so that she wouldn't freeze and, after making sure the bonds were tight, left, leaving Onyx to watch over her.

_What do I do when she wakes up?_ The horse asked as he stopped in the doorway, turning around to face her. His face was set in a grim but determined expression that she had seen only a few times in her lifetime, and only ever right before a huge undertaking that would later test his strengths, both physical and mental, to the absolute limit.

He looked at the girl who was still sleeping peacefully beneath the black covers, then back at her. "Talk to her. Keep her calm, if you can. But don't come get me until you know for sure that she is awake. I'm going back outside, then back to my library. There's _someone_ I need to have a chat with." His voice was pure steel and the look of fury burning in his eyes indicated that whoever he was going to talk to, they would be lucky to escape with their lives.

Onyx nodded, standing firmly in the doorway like a statue, forever watchful with her twin torch-like eyes burning back the darkness. _I will do as much as I can, Pitch. _She promised.

He gave her a single curt nod, then turned on his heel and left.

_Boy,_ Onyx thought, shifting her gaze back to the girl. _I'd sure hate to be the poor idiot that has incurred the Nightmare King's wrath._

XXXXXXXXX

"_LUNAR!_"

The name, hurled from the thin lips of the Boogeyman, split the air like a gunshot. Here, out in the open of his lair entrance there weren't any thick rock walls or ceilings to make the beautiful, terrifying acoustics which normally accompanied his yelling; but the single word was enough to make any spirit, animal and human that could hear him turn tail and run. There was so much anger and fury in that solidary two-syllable word that Pitch could practically feel the venom as he repeated it, howling up at moon which hung as a sickle in the sky like a demented wolf.

"_LUNAR! ANSWER ME NOW!_"

He waited, his chest heaving. He was about ready to split Manny's skull open for the brief glimpses in that girl's memories! True, he hadn't seen everything there was to see, but he had seen enough. That girl was a broken and tortured soul, and instead of letting her rest in eternal sleep like she deserved, _someone_ had decided to bring her back as a bloody spirit! But that wasn't the worst part.

"No," Pitch seethed, glaring up at the moon with a hatred only he could fathom. "The _worst part_ is that he didn't even bother to tell the girl her gods-damn _name! LUNAR!_" He added, screaming the name skyward a third time. No response. "**TSAR LUNANOFF THE NINTH I WILL COME UP THERE AND DRAG YOUR SILVER ASS DOWN HERE UNLESS YOU ANSWER ME **_**NOW!**_"

He scanned the skies, waiting for a moonbeam to shine down to earth as a portal and listening intently, in case Manny chose to speak directly to him, but after ten minutes of waiting he threw up his arms in disgust and started stomping back towards his lair. It had been an empty threat, and Manny knew it. He could no more shadow-travel to the moon than Jack could sun-tan in Miami.

_Pitch,_

Pitch whirled around, recognizing the soft voice instantly. He expected to see the silvery-haired teen standing a few feet away, leaning on his staff and watching him like the silent Guardian he was or sitting on one of the rocks that encircled Jack's lake, swinging the diamond-tipped weapon like Jack tended to do so frequently. But he saw nothing.

"Nightlight," he spoke the name with a little more venom then he meant to. It wasn't the elder Lunanoff prince he had a problem with, after all. It was the younger. "Get your brother. I need to speak with him _now_."

Nightlight's voice went even softer. _I can't do that Pitch. He doesn't know I'm using the moonbeams to contact you now and even if he did, he would have my hide for disobeying him._

Pitch clenched his fists and started to pace along the beach of the lake. "You can blame it on me," he told the elder Lunanoff, trying to keep his voice even. Oh, he was going to raise hell in a minute. "You can tell him whatever you like, that I blackmailed you into it or whatever, but get him down here or put him on the telepathic phone NOW!"

_I can't do that Pitch,_ Nightlight protested, his whispery voice rising a few octaves. _For one, he's sleeping and that's why he can't hear you. He has a special sand that Sanderson made for him that keeps all our voices out until he wakes up. It's pretty exhausting work, being the creator of most of the spirit realm, and even the great Man in the Moon needs a break sometimes. And for another, he can't help you with your problem._

Pitch took several deep breaths to calm himself, though he wanted to explode. "Just typical," he muttered, kicking at the dirt beneath his feet as he paced back and forth beneath the starlit sky. "The one night I need the bastard he's _asleep!_ I never ask him for anything and yet _the one bloody time I do_-"

_Pitch, calm down please. You'll wake up the entire town. _Nightlight told him softly, the single ray of moonlight flickering nervously for a second as if debating whether to leave the Boogeyman to sort himself out on his own. Then the light grew stronger, brighter, and Nightlight's voice came back, steadier than before. _You know that isn't true anyway. He listened to you, even when no one else would. When you were an outcast and praying that someone, anyone, would end your suffering, he listened. He just couldn't do anything, as it would tamper with your destiny. Everything that has transpired today, even your pain, was meant to be. And look at you! You've become a warrior of the night because of it!_

The Nightmare King rolled his eyes and a low growl escaped his lips, reminiscent of the deep rumbling heard just before a volcano erupts. "Alright, I will grant you that everything worked its way out in the end. But my current predicament remains to be seen."

_Indeed it does,_ Nightlight told him dryly. _Since you haven't told me what your problem is to begin with._

Pitch clenched his fists. "I'll tell you what my problem is, you insufferable glowworm," he spat, stopping dead in his tracks and glaring at the ray of moonlight which shrank back a little out of self-preservation. "There is a girl cowering in my caves- a teenage human girl, who was brought back by your _brother_," he hissed the noun as if it were pure acid on his tongue. "As some sort of shape-shifting spirit."

Nightlight's voice was dead silent as Pitch continued to rant and rave.

"And that's not the worse part! She is _purposefully _repressing her memories! Not subconsciously, and they aren't being blocked by another source. Purposefully!" He was letting it all out now. His anger that Manny would _dare_ tamper with such an innocent soul, just to bring her back as one more in a sea of spirits, his sadness for the girl, and many other unnamed emotions that he was too blinded by the first two to name. "And that _still_ isn't the worst part!"

_What is?_ Nightlight's voice asked hesitantly. The moonbeam was quaking with fear, shimmering like the light reflected on the wall of a pool's azure waters.

The anger was rolling off of him like waves now, filling him with an insatiable desire to hurt the Man in the Moon. Hurt him, like he had hurt her. "The worse part," he snarled, shadows dripping from his hands as he clenched them tight enough to draw blood form the cuts that his nails were inflicting. "Is that she doesn't know _anything_ about being a spirit! Hell, she didn't even know she _was_ a spirit until I told her, after three- no, _four_ escape attempts. Gods above when I first found her she couldn't even _speak_ to me because she was so afraid! I asked her what her name was, she wouldn't tell me. I asked her how much she knew about the spirit world, she knows _nothing_! How the_ hell_ can he justify bringing a _child's_ soul-"

_Pitch,_

"-into a job she knows nothing about and expects her to find her way without any guidance or-"

_Pitch,_

"-way to help her. I want to help her, but she's so afraid…" Pitch broke off, the anger suddenly morphing into utter and dejected sadness. He sank to his knees, looking down at his lair entrance as remorse for what she had been forced to become permeated the thick husk of anger. He closed his eyes. "She's so afraid, Nightlight. I can feel it from here." His voice was barely more than a whisper as more tendrils of fear began to appear on his internal radar. The most fear within a hundred-foot radius was located a few hundred feet below, in his caverns. And he doubted that it was another terrified spelunker.

_Can you feel what she is afraid of?_

Pitch tried to focus on her fear, drawing it towards him and picking through it like a bag of trail mix. It was like a soupy mixture of fear, despair, hate, anger and sadness, as most fears were, but Pitch ignored all that and zeroed in on the core fear. The cold truth. The true reason she was afraid. He looked into her mind's eye and saw again the same ghostly apparition he had seen when he had tried to penetrate her Nightmare. A little girl, sitting all alone in the darkness, chattering madly away to herself as if no one else in the world existed.

"She's…afraid of being alone." He finally said, opening his eyes. "Afraid of being left all alone, with only the voices in her head."

_There, right there._ Nightlight said triumphantly. _That's why you should help her_. _You say that my brother did wrong by pulling her soul out of Death's void and turning her into a spirit, prove to me that he didn't. Help her become the person she's meant to be!_

Pitch shook his head but the light spirit continued.

_She's just like you were once Pitch. A lost, innocent soul. A blank slate, if you will, just like every spirit. Someone who could be used to do great good to the world, or great evil. Or, in some rare cases like yours, both. All she needs is a little help and someone to take care of her. You can be that person!_

He barked out a laugh, a bit of the old Pitch coming back. "Me? I'm probably the thing that terrifies her _most_ right now, besides being alone." He scoffed. "_Me, help her. Ridiculous_."

_Why would you terrify her?_ Nightlight asked, sounding puzzled.

Pitch sighed as if he were speaking to an idiot. "Nightlight, have you forgotten to whom you are speaking? I'm the _Boogeyman!_ The terror under the beds! Yes I'm rehabilitated but I'm _still_ the thing that lurked in the shadows in the minds of the children who I terrified. Not to mention the Nightmares already scared her within an inch of her afterlife by feeding off of her." He clenched his fists, remembering how utterly terrified she was. He turned away from the light. "No, I am not the best candidate to help this girl. Maybe Tooth or North, maybe even Jack, but not me."

_And why the hell not?_ Nightlight challenged, and Pitch saw the moonbeam flicker once before it settled into a steady, pulsing light. _You have a daughter and a grandchild now, as well as all of Tooth's daughters. You know about children as much as the others do, maybe even more so, because all of those years in the dark when you were still the Boogeyman of old. You had more contact with children than any of the Guardians have had in decades, barring the Nightmare war. _He added when Pitch opened his mouth to interrupt. _So why can't you try to take care of her?_

Pitch sighed. "You're so naive." He muttered scornfully. "Do you _really_ think that the Guardians will let me take care of her, a lost and memory-less spirit? Spirits like that are just asking for trouble. They don't know the rules or how to do their job. If I get roped into this and something goes wrong, they'll blame me and then I'll be out on my ass."

_Why do they have to know? _Nightlight asked innocently._ You can keep her a secret until she's strong enough and knows the ropes of her powers to go out on her own._

Pitch sat down on a stump. "Nightlight, she's already tried to escape the caves four times." He replied blandly. "I don't think keeping her a secret for however long it takes to train her will be a viable solution. And that's assuming she even wants to be helped in the first place."

_Sometimes what we want isn't exactly the same as what we need. _Nightlight said wisely. _And what she needs right now isn't a home, or training. What she needs… is a friend._

Pitch hung his head, suddenly feeling exhausted by the last few days. He couldn't remember a time when he had _ever_ felt so stressed. Not even in the weeks before the Nightmare War. "I don't know if I can be a friend," he whispered. The heaviness of this decision was weighing down on his shoulders, making him feel as if he had the world itself slung across his back. If he did this, if he took her in, there would be no going back. And likewise if he turned her over to the Guardians. "What should I do?!" He practically begged the light spirit, small tears welling in the corners of his eyes. "I- I can't-"

_Pitch, listen to me._ Nightlight said calmly. He had witnessed many a meltdown and he knew exactly how to keep things calm. _Just follow what your heart tells you to do. _He advised._ If you want to take her in its going to be a long, hard process that may takes months or even __**years**__ until she finally trusts you, but in the end it will be worth it because you know you will have helped another spirit like you weren't helped. However, you aren't obligated to do anything. It's your choice. The curse of having free will again huh?_

He was trying to be funny. Pitch didn't laugh. "But what if I screw up?!" He demanded. "What if she can't learn from me? What if…" He let the unspoken words, _what if I turn her dark_, go unspoken. Though Nightlight could practically hear them ringing in the silence.

_You won't._ Nightlight assured him. _The Fearlings are __**gone**__ Pitch, forever. There is no way you could possibly turn her dark. Though,_ he added after a few seconds pause. _She might turn dark if you __**don't**__ help her. Like I said it's all dependent on the spirit. Your taking her in could be the best thing to happen to her, or it could be the worst. Time will only tell._

Pitch rolled his eyes. "You are the worst person to ask advice from, you know that?" He grumbled, folding his arms over his chest. It was a cold night, and though spirits were immortal to an extent, they weren't immune to the elements.

_Eh. People have a habit of asking for my help and advice, whither I want to give it or not._ He replied modestly.

Silence reigned for a little while, the cool air whistling through the trees and the echoing noises of the night encroaching in on him. Sounds like birds squawking, trashcans banging as alley cats knocked them over in the process of play-fighting and the distant murmur of people that were still awake in houses.

Finally, Nightlight spoke. _So, are you going to help her?_

The fearsome Nightmare King sighed tiredly, raising his hand to his forehead. "Do I have a choice?" He was starting to get a migraine.

_Of course. You always have a choice Pitch._ The other spirit replied.

Pitch sighed again, mulling it over in his head. _Weeks, maybe months of work, training, letting her stay in my home and eat my food, keeping a secret from the others and Tooth which could potentially come back to bite me in the ass later, and all for some strange spirit girl that I barely know. Was it really worth it that much?_

Yes. Yes it was.

"Alright, alright I'll help her." He agreed, rubbing his pulsing temples. He _would_ help her. He _would_ give her the guidance and friendship that he never received, and in return… well, he could get to that later. Then he looked back up at the sky and said firmly, "But you had _better_ tell your brother I still need to talk to him."

The little beam of light shivered in what he assumed was agreement, then it dissipated like fog in the wind. Pitch lingered up top for another moment before wearily dragging himself back to his caves, in the direction of his library. He had a lot of thinking and planning to do, and where better to plan the future than in the comfort of his own chair!

XXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, back in the caves, I was already partially awake from my Change-induced coma.

Normally I didn't sleep much and, as you've seen when I do sleep, it's less than peaceful. But this time, I woke up from a still sleep. No dreams, no nightmares, not even a single one of those strange visions that had been plaguing me since my first night. Just still, peaceful darkness that allowed me to release and relax, for the first time in what felt like a very, very long time. The sleep was so complete and so deep that I can't think what might've woken me up.

Aside from the creepy golden eyes of that demon-horse which was standing not two feet away.

However, when my eyes first cracked open and the gentle candle-light washed in, the shock was enough to force them shut and as such I didn't see the horse at first.

I groaned, raising my hand to my eyes and then to my head as a thunderous headache erupted right above my right eye in my temples. I clutched my head, moaning softly. Oh _gods _that hurt! Agony, pure undulating agony of the sort that I hadn't felt since my first night in Burgess fought for dominion inside my skull, pressing down on my brain until I felt as if I would pass out again.

"_Ooooh," _I moaned pathetically, too wrapped up in my pain to give a damn about who saw me and who didn't. I started rolling around, thrashing, anything to try and relieve the pressure but nothing worked. If anything, the movement just aggrivated my massive headache. "_Make it stoooop!_"

_Are you alright child?_

I froze in mid roll. Even though my eyes were still closed from that blast of evil candle-light, my hearing was in perfect repair and I listened closely, wondering if that had been my imagination.

It wasn't.

_Child?_

The voice was coming from my left. Not his voice, that was obvious. It was softer, more feminine. What, had he brought his girlfriend to gawk at me now too? I grimaced as a wave of pain shot through me. _Right. Thinking, bad. Hurts like a mother-bugger. No thinking._

I heard a muffled clip-clop sound, followed by a soft snuffling noise and felt something cold pushing against my shoulder. My entire body seized up as if I had been injected with a paralytical drug and, in spite of my pain, my breathing started to rapidly speed up.

_Do not be afraid child, I am not like my sister. _The voice said and again I felt the cold object pushing against my shoulder. _Be calm, please. I'm not going to hurt you._

Somehow, that didn't calm me down in the slightest. I can't imagine why. However, it did help apease my headache somewhat. Enough for me to move without pain stabbing me behind my eyes at least. I turned, slowly, to face whatever was standing over me, hoping to the gods that it wasn't another one of those creepy demonic horse-thingies.

Hope springs eternal.

My eyes locked with its fiery golden ones and I inhaled sharply. The horse backed away. It could sense my fear. I knew that by the way it moved and how its eyes remained locked with mine. Though strangely, as we continued to stare at each other I found myself growing less and less afraid. It was as if something in those eyes was...talking to me. Telling me through my thoughts that everything was truly alright until I felt safe enough to break eye contact long enough to sit up.

Once I did so, the world became much clearer. I was back in the room again, but this time I was laying on the bed I had originally woken up in. Under the covers, to be exact. I wiggled my feet and watched the little bumps at the foot of the bed move. Yep, they were my feet. I looked back at the demon-horse, but before I could even ask the question she answered for me.

_Yes, he put you here._

I noticed her lips didn't move when the words came out and decided that she must be speaking inside my head. I decided to go with it. Plenty of stranger things have happened, after all. "Why?" I asked, keeping my eyes down and away from hers, instead focusing my attention to the world around me. The room was much better lit than before, with gently burning torches sitting in iron brackets mounted on the walls, giving the place a slightly dungeon-esque look. Said look was enhanced, however, when I suddenly realized I was still chained up.

As any woman's first instinct is when she finds herself chained up, mine was to start thrashing and yanking at the wrought iron links which bound me. They bashed together with a resounding clink that did nothing but annoy my ears. The horse whinnied.

_He put you here because you were shivering, and because in spite of what you may think he does not wish to bring you any more harm._

I gave it a dower look. "Really?" I asked flatly.

_Yes._

It was so simple a word, yet it was said with such authority that I nearly believed her.

"Right." I murmured, casting my gaze around to see where the exits were. There was only one door that I could see, and the horse was standing right in front of it. "And that's why he knocked me out. Twice."

_He knocked you out because you kneed him in the crotch child, _she- at least, I think it was a she from the softness of her voice, told me tersely. _I'm sure you would've done the same thing, had it been you._

I rolled my eyes, looking back at the horse. I sized her up. "What are you anyway, some kind of hybrid demon-horse conscience for him?" I demanded. This was the first time I had gotten a close-up look at her and, now that I saw her, I felt a little in awe. But I didn't let it show. She was...magnificent. Yes, that was the only word I could equate to her. Her skin rippled black and shimmering, her mane hanging like a curtain of obsidian glass and her eyes, those astoundingly bright golden eyes burning holes into my forehead when I didn't look at her.

She shook her head. _No. And I have a name you know._ She sounded a little miffed.

I cocked my head to the side, curious. "Really? What is it?"

_Onyx._

I repeated the name softly under my breath, seeing how it sounded. Onyx.

_And I am __**not**__ a demon._ The newly dubbed horse continued, somehow forcing my eyes back up to hers. Her voice inside my head was cold, slightly angry. _I am a Nightmare._

I couldn't help myself. "Aww, what a pretty little Nightmare." I cooed mockingly.

The horse reared back as if I had struck her with a whip, letting out a shrill whinny of alarm and kicking out with her right hoof. I've seen enough horse movies with Cupcake to know that she was clearly distressed by something, so I scooted back a bit on the bed in hopes of avoiding a blow form those nasty-looking hooves, but my chains would not let me go far.

Her front hooves came down like a thunderclap, sending tremors through the cave-room and shaking the bed I was cowering on. Yes, I was cowering. On top of the blankets, curled up into a little ball of purple hair and frightened eyes. And I have no shame in it. Something about this horse practically radiated grandeur and presence. This was not a being to be ignored, whatever she was, and yet I could see by the way she moved and shifted restlessly that she was accustomed to lurking in the shadows.

Onyx stared at me for a long moment, her sides heaving from that one rush of anger, wherever it had come from. I was still curled up in my little ball, terror coursing through my system. What would she do? Would she call him? Her golden eyes were half-lidded but, because she didn't have cornea or pupils or even irises, it was hard to tell if she was mocking me or pitying me.

Finally, she started to move. I heard her hoof-beats, like heels on concrete as she sauntered towards me and I shut my eyes, wondering if she were going to feed off of me like the last one had. I pulled my hands in tight, bracing myself for whatever was to come. Something cold touched my arm and I jumped, pulling even tighter in on myself thinking, _no, go away! _A warm breath of air caressed my cheek and I felt something warm and rough resting against my neck. It spoke.

_Forgive me._ She said, her voice soft and hesitant as she nuzzled my neck with her cold nose, sending shivers down my spine. _I am not here to scare you, or hurt you._

Against my better judgment I gave the first answer that came to mind. "Really? Seems like you are doing a pretty good job of both." I half expected her to pull away and leave me or go call him, but she didn't move. Her warm neck stretched out over my arm as she laid her forehead against mine.

_I'm sorry you feel that way. But I am a creature devoted to fear. It's going to take me a while to get used to comforting children. _The funny thing was that she really did sound apologetic.

"I'm not a child," I growled, pushing her away. "And you don't have to baby me."

She moved away from me, her lips pulled back in what I took to be a smirk. _That is certainly true,_ she replied, looking me up and down with a piercing intensity that I found very unnerving and chose to look down at my hands while she continued. _However, there is nothing wrong with wanting help._

I shrugged. OK, now that I knew where I was and who I was with, it was question time. And I wasn't liking where this current direction of conversation was going anyway, so I swiftly changed it. "So," I said slowly, looking around. "Where am I?"

She tossed her head gently, making her mane bounce. _Underground_. She replied evasively.

I rolled my eyes. "No shit Black Beauty." My voice came out as a repugnant drawl. "What I meant was, _where_ underground? Are we still in Burgess at least? Am I going to have to steal a map when I get out of here?"

_Yes, we are still in Burgess. Or, rather, underneath of it._ She whinnied a little laugh, then when she saw my confused look she explained, _My master lives in these caves which run deep beneath the streets of the town and connect to passageways all across the world. That is how he travels from continent to continent to do his duty, along with other means. This is his home._

I raised an eyebrow. "_Do his duty?_" I repeated. "What does that mean? Who is he anyway? And how did he get…" I gestured at her, my chains clinking as I moved. "You? What _are you_ even?"

_I am a Nightmare._ She replied evenly, raising her head as if she took great pride in the title. _It is my sworn duty to protect children, both young and old, from unnecessary fear that lurks in their hearts and the foolishness of not having enough fear._

I frowned. "Sworn by who? The creepy guy in the man-dress?"

She rolled her eyes. _Why does __**everyone**__ think it's a dress?_ She grumbled, scraping her hoof across the floor in irritation. _It's a robe, and I think it looks very intimidating._

I chuckled. "Yeah, if you were, like, a five-year-old."

She inclined her head. _Point taken. But yes, he is Pitch Black, the Boogeyman. Guardian of Courage._

I rolled the name around in my head, yet more questions sprouting off from this less than helpful answer. The Boogeyman. I had heard the name previously from Cupcake several times during one of her strange stories, but I had just assumed it was another character in one of her fantasies. Come to think of it, I seemed to recall Cupcake talking about shadow-horses too. Had she called them Nightmares? I wasn't sure. But if Cupcake had seen then and this 'Boogeyman', maybe he wasn't quite as insane as I had first pegged him to be.

That's not to say I believed him about all that spirit realm stuff, and once I was safely back in Cupcake's house I was going to have a serious talk with her about trusting strange grey guys in man-dresses, but I honestly would've been stupid to still think that this was all a hoax. That sand sure as hell had been real. The demon-horse that had bit me had been real. So why couldn't this claim that he was the Boogeyman be valid as well?

"He sure as hell doesn't look like I would picture the Boogeyman," I told Onyx, wondering how much info I could get from her. "He looks like a twenty-year-old Halloween prop."

Onyx snorted. _He doesn't give the impression of earth-shattering power that he used to, I'll give you that, but he is the Boogeyman._ She told me, sidling a few steps closer to me and keeping her golden eyes trained on mine.

I rolled my eyes. "Right. Earth-shattering power. Let me guess, he guards the closets of the world? Keeps the other monsters in check?"

She snorted again, accompanied by a whinny of laughter. _You are a funny child_, she told me, leaning her head forward and rubbing her cold nose against my arm in what I assumed was the horse equivalent of ruffling my hair. _I have not been so amused since Pitch's last era-wardrobe change. _

I shivered a little as her cold nose touched my flesh. "Glad I could amuse you." I murmured, half wishing she would go away and leave me to think. There was so much new information buzzing around in my head that I could barely see straight. Evidently I was being held prisoner in the Boogeyman's lair, guarded by a Nightmare horse, because he thought I was some new addition to the spirit realm. Weird. But not entirely unbelievable. I had known form my first night at Cupcake's house that there was something…off about me. That I wasn't like normal teens. But I had never expected something like this!

She smiled again and I grimaced. _Thank you._ She inclined her head. _But enough about him and me. Let's talk about you, hmm?_

I was instantly on guard. "What about me?" I asked evenly, shifting my chains as I held her fiery gaze.

Onyx tossed her head majestically. _Well, for starters, I should like to know your name. Pitch has just been calling you 'the girl', and I think that's a bit rude. So what is it? Mary? Karen? Violet? You look like a violet. _

I lifted my hand to a strand of long violet hair which was trailing down my shoulder and rubbed it self-consciously. It was dirty. Come to think of it, so was the rest of me. _Bloody hell do I need a shower._ "And what's wrong with violet?" I demanded, glaring at her.

The horse shook her head from side to side, setting her shimmering mane a-waving again. _Nothing, nothing at all child. But is that your name? Violet?_

I shook my head, my internal defense mechanism springing to life and wrapping around me like a suit of armor. "No." I told her coldly. "And if you're just going to make fun of me I guess I won't bother telling you my name."

I instantly saw her manner change as her eyes grew wide and her stance tensed. _I am sorry, child._ She told me, lifting her head apologetically and trying to push against my hand with her muzzle. _I did not mean to insult you._

I yanked my hand away, fear suddenly filling me. "Just leave me alone!" I cried, turning my head away. "You're only here to find out who I am for _him!_ Just- just go away!"

With my eyes closed, my world was as dark as the unlit room around me, but I could still hear her shrill whinny of surprise and hear her powerful hooves clashing against the ground. Her voice sounded, soft and worried inside my head. _Child…_

"No!" I clapped my hands over my ears, trying to drown her out. "No, just leave me alone!"

There was a few seconds' silence before I heard her voice again. It was almost a whisper, barely tickling the outer reaches of my thoughts. _Very well._ She told me and I heard her hooves clip-clopping away from me against the black rock ground. _I will leave you for now. He will come to check in on you in a matter of hours. _

I nodded. "Yeah yeah, just get out of here!"

Before she left she stopped right in the doorway, nudging it open with her nose. Then she turned back to look at me. _I hope you know that no harm will come to you here. _She told me seriously.

I couldn't help but snort.

She elected to ignore it. _Both Pitch and I care about your safety. He let you know that by moving you onto this bed instead of leaving you on the cold floor. That should tell you enough about him._

I shook the chains again. "And these?" I demanded. "What does _this_ say about him?"

She stared at me for a moment before replying evenly. I could feel her eyes upon me, watching my every move. _It says he is a cautious man who does not wish to lose a gift._ And then she left.

I flopped backwards onto the bed, my weight making the mattress beneath me bounce as I pondered her parting words.

"A cautious man who does not wish to lose a gift." I murmured, my eyes idly tracing patterns in the fire-lit rock above me as I tried to sort through all my new information. "What does that mean?" I didn't know. But I had a feeling I was soon going to find out.


	7. The Not-So-Great Escape

**Hey gang, I'm back! Thank you guys soooo much for all the love in the last few chapters, really made my day. I swear, each time I read a review it's like my heart explodes with happiness. Thank you especially to all my wonderful faithful readers, like Assanee, Black3st-Night, Frostofsummer and of course the ones that've been there from the beginning, my bestest buds Fanty and Xion. I can't wait to see how you guys like this chapter! **

**It feels like it took me forever to write, but the next one's going to be even more fun. As for Assanee's comment, not to give away spoilers, but yes our little purple-haired shape-shifter's past will all be revealed soon enough. I'm so glad you guys love my story and I can't wait for more reviews!  
**

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In the meantime, while Onyx was trying to help bring his new guest out of her little shell, Pitch was off on an entirely separate mission.

After Nightlight's conversation, he had retired back to his library for a nice long think, but his mind had been constantly plagued by the decision to not tell Tooth and the others about the girl. No matter how many books he attempted to read to get his mind off of it, it always came back to haunt his thoughts until finally, he got sick of thinking about it and decided to just head to Pujam Hi Loo and tell her.

His logic was that you weren't supposed to keep secrets in any serious relationship, and, if there was anything he wanted their relationship to be, it was serious. So, after leaving a message with one of the Nightmares that he was going out and that all operations were to remain normal, he retreated back through the shadows and instantly appeared in Tooth's bedroom at the Palace.

It had been a few days since he had visited the Palace, but it remained as he remembered. Vast, beautiful, and eternally bustling with life. The golden pillars outside her glass window stood as firm as fingers, set into the floor and the platforms set in rainbow tiles hung from the ceiling as if the most gifted sculptor in the world had fashioned a chandelier with an elegance to rival any other on earth. Not to mention the natural beauties, like the azure river slowly bubbling along below, beautiful cherry trees that- in spite of it being late winter, were in full bloom and the grass was a shiny emerald green.

But that was only a fraction of the underground palace's beauty, and he knew it. The real beauty lay in its occupants. One in particular. A certain beautiful fairy queen that put the whole of her palace to shame.

"Tooth?" He called out, even though he knew that she probably wouldn't be anywhere near her rooms in the middle of the day. Tooth was the epitome of a workaholic, and she knew it. But it was in her nature, and as such he didn't try to fight her on it.

No answer. Silently, he stepped away from the shadow and headed towards the open window. There were entire flocks of mini-fairies zooming by on hundreds of different missions to various destinations, each flying in different directions with such speed and as the light glanced off their wings, it gave the illusion of rainbows dancing in mid-air. He whistled sharply and a small flock of the fairies immediately froze in midair like a school of fish. He whistled again, just like Tooth used to and the small cluster of the fairy daughters responded by flying forward through the glass towards him.

Pitch frowned, thinking, _I've always wondered how they do that. _Then he shook his head and put it out of his mind. _I'll ask them later._

Over the last year since he had visited Tooth's Palace in his quest to retrieve his memories, Pitch had worked out the equivalent of a repertoire with the little mini-fairies. It had been a bit rocky for him in the beginning, as he was unsure just how much they trusted him and whither they would tolerate him coming to the Palace on a regular basis, but as the months wore on he slowly began to release that he cared for the little dears. And, what was more, that they actually cared for him too.

It started with just Baby Tooth. Then, as he came by more and more of Tooth's daughters started migrating towards him and trusting him more around their mother. Eventually, they had decided to forget his mistakes and move on and since then, the fairies had treated him with nothing but respect, kindness and yes, love. Without a single vestige of hate. Everything that he had done to them, all of his past, forgotten. Almost as if they had…adopted him as one of the family. Just as the Guardians had.

Tooth had had no idea how happy that had made him. Where once they would've fled at the mere sight of him, now they squeaked in joy and immediately rushed him whenever they saw him, normally with Baby Tooth in the lead. Then they would encircle him like a rainbow tornado of turbulent joy, each one clamoring for attention like the miniature pre-teens they were.

_Speaking of which,_ Pitch thought, a small grin creeping across his face as the fairies crossed the threshold through the glass and finally recognized him. He braced himself. _Here we go again._

He could see their little faces lighting up with recognition as the fairies squealed and bolted towards him, their little arms outstretched as if for a hug. Pitch response by raising his hands and letting them land in them like little fighter jets, chirping and squeaking in delight, their words an ecstatic jumble of noise. All he could make out were a few disembodies words like _back, mother_ and _safe_. Pitch smiled as they swarmed around him like tiny children, their feathers glinting in the sunlight and their little clear wings buzzing like bees.

"Yes yes, I missed you too." He told them gently as some of them flew up to his face and started nuzzling him like little cats. One of them even laid a feather-light kiss on his nose. He smiled, letting his hands drop. "Calm down girls, goodness! It's like you haven't seen me for the last few weeks!" He could feel a few of them nestled in his hair and he shook his head to dislodge them.

The fairies tumbled out with a squeak of alarm, but he caught them in his hands and gently tossed them back to their sisters who were looking at each other with an utterly puzzled expression on their tiny faces.

"What's that look for?" He asked them, raising an eyebrow. "I came over to visit just a few days ago. Remember? I brought Onyx for you to race with."

He had indeed brought the Nightmare over to the Palace for a day, and by all rights the little 'playdate' as Tooth called it between his creation and the fairies had been a success. He had watched from Tooth's alcove room with her at his side as nearly all of the fairies played some sadistic form of dodgeball where Onyx was made to fly around the Palace after them and the fairies would fly around, trying not to get caught by her. Onyx had had a blast and had requested to come with him the next time he visited the Palace. He had said he would think about it.

_Why don't they remember?_ He wondered. _All the fairies had participated. Maybe this is a_ _new group of fairies that she just created. _He knew Tooth had to do that on occasion when the accidental death tolls got to be too high, and had in fact seen it done before, but he was pretty sure that wasn't the case here.

The fairies frowned and chittered for a second amongst themselves before turning back to him. _Pitch,_ one of them said slowly, flying up to his face. Her little tuft of feathers between her eyes was creased in a frown of confusion. _You never brought Onyx_ _here. We haven't seen you in almost a year._

Before Pitch could respond the other fairies erupted in a flurry of squeaking and nonsensical words. He tried to stop them by raising his hands but they ignored him. Each voice was trying to top the other and get their point across until soon the voluminous chatter grew so loud that Pitch had to clap his hands over his ears.

"Girls, girls," He cried, waving his hands to get their attention and when they fell silent, he dropped his hands and sighed. "Thank you. Now, I would like for one of you to tell me, _slowly and carefully_, what you are all talking about. Please." He added, giving them what Tooth jokingly called the 'daddy glare'.

They ignored his request and each one of them started squeaking their answers to him, and all at the same time.

He sighed again tiredly. "Alright, never mind. I'll ask Baby Tooth later. Where is your mother? I need to speak with her."

They all started to answer, but then a shrill squeak silenced them all and they spun around in midair, their eyes wide as if they had just gotten caught with their little hands in the nectar jar. Pitch turned his gaze to the direction of the noise and saw none other than Baby Tooth flying towards them, her hands on her tiny hips and her amethyst eyes narrowed. Without even pausing to say hello to him she came to a halt in front of her smaller sisters and started squeaking at them in rapid-fire fairy language, gesturing with her hands like a miniature drill sergeant. He watched with mild amusement as blushes crept over the cheeks of the fairies and they scuffled their feet, looking down at the ground as she presumably chewed them out.

Finally, after a few minutes she let out a sharp squeak which Pitch knew meant 'get back to work,' and pointed towards the opening of the cave where sunlight poured in and he could just barely make out glint of green foliage of the mountains and trees beyond. The fairies took off like a flock of butterflies, back to their duties and only when she could no longer see their wings glinting in the distance did Baby Tooth turn around to face him.

As soon as she saw him the little scowl vanished from her features and was replaced by a small smile.

_Sorry Pitch,_ she apologized, flying up to his face and nuzzling his cheek gently. _But you have to keep the ranks on their toes, otherwise they get lazy. _

Pitch allowed her to bestow a light kiss on his cheek, then pulled back and nodded. "I know what that's like." He muttered, a small smile creeping across his lips. "The Nightmares are getting so restless lately, I'm thinking about downsizing some them back to sand."

She nodded. _Tell me about it._ _What with the new believers growing every day, we're needing more and more fairies to take care of the teeth. And as more of our fairies get…_ she paused, shivering. _Get lost on the job, we start not having enough hands to handle everything and then we have to call in mom. _She rolled her eyes. _And I __**hate **__doing that._

Pitch chuckled, resting a finger on her tiny cheek. "Well, I'm sure you'll be able to figure out. You take after your mother. Determined, diligent and hard-working. I think you'll do fine." She nuzzled against his grey finger gently, smiling. _She was just like a little cat,_ he thought, smiling as her little golden feather tickled his skin. "And speaking of your beautiful mother, where is she at? There's something I need to talk to her about. It's rather urgent." He added, his smile slipping slightly into a more serious flat line.

He opened his palm as an option for her to rest which she accepted and alighted gently down on the lines between his skin. She sat down cross-legged, putting her hand beneath her chin and frowning at him thoughtfully. _She's not here._ She told him, gesturing around with her tiny hand. _North called her through one of those weird lighty-things,_ she cupped her hands and bent her little fingers, making it look like she was holding an invisible sphere.

"A snowglobe?" Pitch asked, frowning. North only ever used the globes for communication if it was urgent. Not save the world/northern lights urgent, but close.

She nodded. _Yeah, those. I was waiting to tell her about a new shipment of coins that were backed up and I heard her talking to North. It sounded urgent, but I couldn't hear his end of the conversation. Then the light disappeared, and she told me that I needed to take command for a while._ Baby Tooth looked up at him, her tone serious. _She looked really worried Pitch._ She told him, holding his gaze. _Like something terrible had happened. You should go find her, as soon as possible._

Pitch nodded, letting his hand drop. Baby Tooth managed to catch herself before she could hit the ground and she hovered in midair for a minute, steadying herself before she turned back to him. "Do you know where she went?" He asked urgently, already preparing to leave before she even answered, mustering the old shadow-magic and trying to ignore the worry that Baby Tooth's report had ignited in his mind.

Baby Tooth shrugged. _Well, since it was North who messaged her I'm assuming it was the Pole. I mean I could be wrong, _she added as an afterthought. _I didn't hear any work noises that I normally hear around the Pole-_

"Never mind that," Pitch interrupted, waving a hand. North might have called her form one of his more private rooms, which would account for the lack of bustling noise Baby Tooth heard which was normally found around the Pole. "When did she leave? How long ago?"

The tiny fairy shrugged again. _About an hour to two and a half hours ago. She didn't take the globe though- I don't know why. But before she left she told me that if I heard anything about you, to find a way to tell her._

Pitch nodded idly, giving her a little pat on the head. "You did good dear," he told her, his thoughts miles away. "Wherever she is, I'll find her and make sure everything is alright before I bring her back here. Alright?"

She nodded, her little golden feather bobbing up and down in agreement. _Alright. Be safe._

The Nightmare King turned to leave, but the Tooth's Fairy's daughter had one last parting word to give.

_I'm glad you're back Pitch. _She told him, smiling broadly. There was a strange look in her eyes, almost like joy but not quite. _It's good to see you out and about again._

Pitch frowned, half-invested in the shadows. He pulled his body back out of the darkness and turned around to face the little fairy, still frowning. "What?"

She looked like she had more important things she needed to be doing right now, but in spite of that she stayed behind to answer him. _Well, it's been almost seven months since mother took me to visit you at the Pole. That's a long time to mourn, but I'm glad you're finally getting over it. Mother always said that you would. _She flew back to his cheek and kissed him again. _We're both very proud of you. _She told the very confused boogeyman gently, beaming_. Now, I've gotta run! There's an issue over at the coin containment area. _She turned around and sped off, calling over her shoulder,_ Don't forget to tell me what happened with mother when you get back!_

And then she left, leaving a thoroughly bewildered Boogeyman in her wake.

_She's the third person who I've met since last night who have acted as if I've been holed up like a hermit for the past year, _he thought to himself as he turned his back on the beautiful Palace of gold and walked back through the shadows and out again in a matter of seconds, this time appearing inside the very depths of the Pole out of the shadow of a machine and nearly scaring the daylights out of a poor yeti who he apologized to before asking where North was at.

The Yeti frowned, thinking it over for a moment before replying that he was probably in his private workroom.

Pitch nodded. "Thank you." He turned to go, then paused and asked the Yeti who was already tinkering with his little robot, "Is there another one of the Guardians here?"

The Yeti nodded idly and grumbled something that sounded like Jack's name.

Pitch rolled his eyes. Great, now Jack was involved. "Thank you." He said again and headed off towards the staircase that led up to the guest rooms and North's private workshop. Climbing the stairs was no problem for him- he hiked more just getting around in his caves, but finding the workroom, now that was a challenge.

To be honest, Pitch had only ever visited the workroom once, and that had been in his vision-quest to regain his memories. Admittedly he had stayed in there a long time, but that didn't help him to remember much about the way there. All the doors looked the same, as he found out when he reached the landing and stood on the edge of the corridor, looking out at the vast array of choices. He sighed. Well, nothing left for it but to go through the doors one by one. Which he did quickly and efficiently.

The first six or seven doors were a bust. Nothing but spare rooms that looked like they hadn't been slept in since they were created, empty storerooms, storerooms that were full of spare wrapping paper and boxes, and one odd room that held nothing but old sets of what looked like Cossack armor and weapons, carefully hung on the walls like monuments. He left that room alone. There was a reason the door had been locked.

By the time he reached the end of the corridor and had checked nearly all the rooms, Pitch was starting to lose faith that North was even up here at all. He sighed, leaning up against the stone wall. Maybe it was fated, he told himself. Maybe he wasn't supposed to find Tooth or North yet and he should just go home and forget about it.

At least, that's what he thought until he heard a familiar voice from behind the door at his right. He spun around, his eyes wide. Was he hearing things? He leaned forward and pressed his ear against the wood, listening intently. No, there it was again. Even through the heavy wooden door, his sensitive ears could clearly detect the sound of Tooth's voice, bitter and angry.

"I cannot _believe_ this!"

North's soft, thick Russian accent came through the wood of the door gently, like he was trying to calm a raging bull. "Toothy-"

She ignored him. "I f*ing cannot believe this!"

Pitch's eyes widened. He had never heard Tooth curse before, and evidently North hadn't either. "Toothy!" He objected.

"No North, don't you _Toothy_ me! This is by far the stupidest mistake you have made in the last five hundred years!"

He heard footsteps. "Now Toothy, you aren't being fair." He chided. "I am sure he is fine."

Pitch frowned. Who were they talking about? Jack? No, it didn't sound like they were talking about the winter-bringer.

"FINE?!" The fairy queen snapped, making Pitch flinch back a little. "Oh no North, we are a long way from fine!" There was a long silence before she spoke again, but when she did it was more out of anger than worry. "How could this have happened?!" She demanded. He could hear the agitated buzzing of her wings from here and knew that she was pretty pissed about something. "How could he leave? I thought you had barriers put in place to keep him from leaving without your knowing!"

Pitch pressed his ear closer, straining to hear the voice of the normally boisterous Russian which had gone soft and low, as if he were trying hard to keep his voice steady.

"Ve did. I must have forgotten to switch de barriers back on after you left."

Pitch heard something crash. "YOU _FORGOT?!_" He flinched back form the door like a child listening to his parents discuss his birthday. Damn, Tooth could be loud when she was angry. "The _MOST IMPORTANT MAN IN MY LIFE_ is recovering from such an emotional trauma that he turned _HERMIT_ and he didn't leave his caves for _WEEKS_ before I dragged him here, _AND YOU __**FORGOT**__ TO RE-ENACT THE BARRIER THAT KEPT HIM HERE?!_"

Pitch heard a heavy hand slam down on a table. "Tooth, dis is not a prison! Dis is a place of joy and wonder! A place to make people happy, not lock dem avay from de world!"

Another crash. "THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU HELP HIM?!" She screamed and Pitch could almost feel her anger radiating from inside the room. "You're supposed to be the jolly, happy one, so why didn't you help him like you promised?!" Suddenly, Tooth's voice went very, very cold. "Or did you not _want_ to?"

Pitch winced. "Oh no Tooth, please don't go there!" He needed to stop this, now! He made to turn the knob, but found that it was locked. "Damn."

Tooth's venomous words poured through the gap in the door, permeating the hall around him as he fought with the doorknob, trying to get his sand to unlock it but her voice was making him hazy and unfocused. "Yes, that makes sense! You've always hated Pitch, ever since the beginning for turning down your offer of being a Guardian! You thought he did it to insult you, and now you're ignoring him being missing to spite me!"

"Toothy dat is preposterous." North told her calmly. Pitch silently thanked the Moon that he was being so clear-minded as he twisted the door handle. "You know we all care about Pitch. And besides, he had only been missing for a few hours. I am sure he will turn up soon."

"Yes but _where_ will he turn up?!" Tooth persisted, her every word acid. "In a ditch? In one of your cellars? Crying in his caves? Ad when he does show up, who's to know what mental state he'll be in?! He probably won't even be able to speak! Not that this is anything new to him," she muttered ruefully. "Not after the numerous times we've beaten him into submission-"

"TOOTHIANA THAT IS ENOUGH!" Another hand slammed down on a table and this time Pitch actually flinched back. On second thought, maybe he should stay out here for now.

Dead, cold silence rang out through the corridor for several long minutes before one of them decided to speak. It was Tooth and she sounded on the verge of tears.

"I'm so sorry North," she told the big Russian in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. "I didn't mean any of that."

North had apparently taken her in his arms for one of his signature Russian hugs, because when he spoke again it was in the same general radius as Tooth's voice. "Eez OK Toothy." He said gently. "I understand."

Suddenly something banged open and Pitch spun around, worried that he had been caught snooping by one of the Yetis but there was no one there. He turned back to the door, just in time to catch the last bit of a sentence spoken by a familiar voice.

"-all over, but I couldn't find him. He isn't in his caves, or anywhere in Burgess." It was Jack, obviously. He could tell by the familiar teenage cadence in his voice. "Funny thing though," he continued. "The nightmares were really jumpy when I tried poking around. Onyx even rushed me to try to get me out."

Pitch moaned. _Oh damn. _"_Onyx!_" He grumbled, reaching out and letting his sand trail through the door again, trying to unlock the mechanism. "_You were supposed to keep her safe, not arouse suspicion!_" Though,he be fair, he hadn't given her any specific instructions on what to do, should a Guardian show up. _But still,_ he argued with himself. _She should've known better than to approach Jack!_ _Oh never mind. I'll reprimand her for it later. I have more important things to do right now, like opening this damn door! Come __**on**__! _He twisted and pulled at the knob, trying in vain to open it, but it refused to budge even an inch.

He took a slow, deep breath and concentrated hard, trying to recall the sensation of the sand being a part of his very being as it had been on his youth. Gradually throughout the years it had become more of a tool than a life-force, but sometimes he still got those feelings of empowerment whenever he used the sand. This was one of those times. It rippled through his grey veins, flowing like lifeblood through him, warming him from the inside. He opened his eyes and though he could not see them, they were glowing golden. The sand wound its way through the tumblers like little malleable fingers, lifting the mechanism's bar. He heard a soft click and he felt the knob turn smoothly.

Pitch grinned. "Yeah, I've still got it." He said as the door swung open and he stepped inside.

The sight that greeted him was probably much less awkward than the one that would've greeted him a few minutes ago. North was grilling Jack for more information, on him presumably. He stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him, taking care not to make a sound. Thankfully nobody noticed him yet, though it would only be a matter of time.

Tooth was hovering closest to the middle of the room, her eyes fixed on Jack which she was facing. She looked just as lovely as he remembered, her feathers gleaming and her face slightly pink from all the shouting. North stood next to her, also facing Jack in his familiar red shirt and black traveling pants, his swords stuck into his belt. _Well, the Cossack hasn't changed a bit either._ Pitch thought as he listened in to their conversation. North was frowning as Jack continued to recount his story.

"She didn't try to attack me, thankfully." He was saying to North. "But I got the feeling that there was something wrong and that I should leave."

North nodded sagely. "Probably a wise choice my boy. Dere are many things other than Pitch vich live in de darkness."

Jack shrugged, tapping his staff with his clenched fingers agitatedly. "Yeah. I asked Jamie if he had seen him, you know, because of how important Jamie was to him, but he said he hadn't seen him in a long time."

"Did you try to question one of the Nightmares?" North asked.

Jack shook his head. "You know I can't talk to them North. I get the creeps every time I try."

Tooth turned away from them and hovered slowly towards the window, staring out at the moon with the most hopeless and dejected look on her face that he had ever seen. "Dear Moon," she whispered, laying her clasped hands on the windowsill. "Please let him be safe. Please let him come back to me and I promise I won't ever let him go! I promise!"

Pitch turned his head away. He didn't want to see her in any more pain because of him and he almost left, but something inside of him told him to wait. Wait and see what happens. So he did. But the result was a little less surprising than he expected.

He saw Jack walk over to her and lay a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry mom," he said in a gentle, almost inaudible voice. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Remember, he's the Boogeyman. He comes and goes whenever he pleases, he's always been that way. But he'll be back. He loves you too much to stay away."

Pitch knew that was his cue, and he stepped forward into the light. "And here's the Boogeyman." To be honest, he had hoped that his voice was too quiet for any one to hear and that they would ignore him so that he could slip away into the darkness. But they did hear him.

Tooth and Jack swung around and Jack instinctively raised his staff a fraction, then lowered it as he recognized the man. "Pitch!" He cried, dropping his staff to the ground and crossing the room to embrace him but Tooth was a tad quicker. She lunged across the room like a bright feathery catapult with a cry that sent a shiver down his spine and before the man knew what hit him, his vision was completely obstructed by a wall of sobbing violet eyes and feathers.

"PITCH!" Tooth was sobbing, clutching him like a lifeline. "Oh my gods, are you alright? We've been looking all over for you where were you?!" She pulled away, holding him by the shouders and looking him up and down as if she hadn't seen him only a few days ago. Her eyes were still wet, but he saw the smile on her lips and knew that they were tears of joy, not sadness.

Pitch smiled, putting his arms around her and hugging her close. "Don't worry my love, I'm alright." he told her in the most re-assuring tone he could muster. "I was just doing my rounds and I ran a little late. Can you forgive me?"

She pulled away and kissed him, rising up using her wings until she floated at eye-level with him. "Of course I can." She said, holding their kiss for a few seconds before it broke and she laid her head in the crook of his neck. "I was just worried is all. "

Pitch smiled and laid another light kiss, this time on her forehead. "There was no need to worry. I am fine." But, in spite of his re-assurance he could still feel her body tensing up against his and he wondered why she was still worried. He was fine, wasn't he? Wasn't that what she had been worried about? His safety? Which had been kind of strange to begin with, seeing as how he was the Boogeyman and all, but he supposed he could give her a little bit of leeway in worrying for his safety since she was his girlfriend and all. Still...

He sighed, knowing that he was only going to get a headache from asking himself these questions- one which he already had lingering in the back of his mind but had forgotten until that very minute, and decided to just let it be. For now. He had more important things to discuss with Tooth and the others than her smothering him.

"I'm sorry about Onyx attacking you Jack," he said, turning to the boy. Tooth reluctantly let go long enough for the two to embrace and for Pitch to tussle the boy's hair like a loving uncle. "I didn't tell her to, but sometimes she gets a little overzealous with her duties."

Jack waved it off. "Nah, it's alright Pitch. She didn't even try to attack me. She just ran at me, looking scary as hell and I did the smart thing. I bolted."

Pitch nodded, cracking a smile. Onyx could be very terrifying when the mood struck her. "Yes that probably was the smartest thing to do. You're lucky she didn't call out reinforcements."

Jack twirled his staff expertly, that familiar cocky grin plastered all across his pale face. "Oh please, I can deal with a few sand-ponies. It's their breath I was worried about. They take after you, after all."

Pitch rolled his eyes and lightly punched the boy in the shoulder. "Just remember that you're my grandson," he retorted. "And that characteristics tend to skip a generation."

Jack opened his mouth to argue, then he closed it and nodded in acknowledgement of a point scored.

The Boogeyman smirked. This kind of back and forth banter, while it differed by who he was engaging with, never got old.

_However, _he thought, looking up and down at Jack. _**Someone's **__starting to show his age._

It was true. He hadn't noticed it until now, but for some reason Jack seemed slightly older to him. He didn't look any different- aside from maybe a quarter of an inch taller and slightly more definition to his features, but here, seeing him and listening to him just now, Pitch realized that his mannerisms had shifted ever so slightly. he sounded more adult, more mature. He even stood straighter, instead of the more languid, lazy stance Pitch had thought was trademarked when he had first seen him in the Nightmare War.

_Maybe it's from all the time he's spent with the Guardians, _Pitch mused as he heard thundering footsteps coming towards him. Then all thoughts of Jack's evolution were literally yanked from his mind as the big Russian pulled him into one of his bone-crushing hugs.

Pitch cried out in distress as North squeezed him tightly, muttering something in Russian. "North, dear moon let me go or I'm going to suffocate!" He objected, flailing with his arms and legs and pleading for Tooth and Jack to assist him but they simply looked on in amusement.

"Think of this as recompense for worrying us," Tooth called, her shit-eating grin matching the winter-bringer beside her's exactly.

Jack nodded. "Yep. You're always talking about how negative stimulation is such a powerful reinforcement and all that slush." He said, using what was evidently his slang for crap as his eyes gleamed with mischievous delight. "It's time to put your money where your mouth is."

Pitch groaned, trying with all of his strength to break free of the huge Russian but all was in vain and after a few seconds of struggling, he eventually gave up and embraced the Guardian of Wonder. "Well, I guess you missed me then, huh North?" He asked, smiling slightly as North finally pulled away, holding him at arms' length.

North nodded emphatically. "Oh yes, eez good to see you old friend." Then he leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "But mostly because you are de only von who can calm down Toothy."

Tooth evidently heard the last part because her feathers bristled slightly in warning.

North flinched. "But yes, ve have all missed you Pitch!"

The Boogeyman noticed this subtle gesture and smirked. "Yes, I'm sure you have." He replied dryly. Then he remembered why he was here and he added, "And I'm glad that at least most of you are here. There's something that I need to tell all of you."

North nodded. "Of course ve are here! De only reason I did not call Sandy and Bunny eez dat it vould vorry dem unnecessarily. And eez good dat you are getting out again and doing your job. Some thought you vould not overcome your grief," he thumped his chest like a proud gorilla. "But I always knew you vould come back to us."

Pitch raised an eyebrow curiously. "You're the third person who's said that to me," he told the Russian, glancing around at the others. "First Onyx, then Baby Tooth and now you! What, have I been holed up in my caves for a year and someone conveniently forgot to tell me?"

The others exchanged puzzled looks. Pitch followed their eyes, watching for any sign of recognition but he saw none.

After a moment, Jack said slowly, "How much do you remember of the last year, Pitch?"

He didn't even have to hesitate. "Everything." He replied with a shrug. "Regaining my memories, growing into my new role, adjusting my lifestyle to accommodate you all, visiting, talking with Manny and Sera, everything. Why?"

Tooth opened her mouth to say something, but Jack put a hand on her shoulder. "Mom, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Tooth glanced at Pitch, then she nodded. They turned away from him and Jack started whispering something to her gently in her ear. Pitch strained to hear what they were saying, but he could only make out a few words here or there.

"-good...forget...purpose!" Jack was saying. Evidently it was something important because Tooth's eyes widened slightly. She nodded.

"Alright. Alright I'll go along with it." She said, then turned back to them, smiling a smile that Pitch could immediately see was false. "So, how did your rounds go?" She asked him, crossing the room and latching onto his arm, still smiling that perfectly fake smile. "Did you help many kids?"

He nodded slowly, wondering why she was steering him away from the subject. Was it part of some prank of Jack's? _No, _he thought, frowning slightly. _Jack's looking far too serious for this to be part of one of his jokes. _"Yes, at least twenty. Most of them in Burgess."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Anything memorable?"

He shrugged again. "A few. One girl was terrified of her dog taking a chunk out of her leg. Evidently she had got it into her mind to watch _Cujo _right before her parents bought her a puppy."

Tooth raised an eyebrow. "Well that was a bit silly of her." She replied, a real smile stealing across her face for a few seconds before it melted back into the false one.

Jack glanced sideways at them. "Yeah, I'm not sure what Cujo is," he said slowly. "But I'm assuming that it was not something she should've watched."

Both Tooth and Pitch shook their heads. "No," she said. "Definitely not."

This led into a short civilized conversation that lasted at least a good twenty minutes before North finally cut in. They talked about random things, like the nightmares he had had to deal with and what had been happening to the others in the last few days. Nothing too eventful. Jack had been giving snow to the parts of the world that needed it and North had been busy wrapping presents. Tooth pretty much did the same thing day after day, so there was nothing really new there and because of that Pitch was almost glad when North told them he needed to be getting along.

"Why?" Jack asked as North started gathering up papers and models form his desk. "It's not like you can't just order the yetis to make the toys."

North nodded, sliding some of the papers haphazardly into a desk and slamming it shut before turning back to them. "Very true. And eez not dat I don't trust dem," he glanced at the door. Then, with a twinkle in his baby-blue eyes he said, "But vithout me around dey tend to panic after a few hours. By now dey are probably running around like goats vith heads hacked off." He reached forward and pulled Pitch into another hug.

Pitch rolled his eyes. "The term, North, is a _chicken _with their head cut off." He murmured, his face half-squished into North's coat.

"Chicken, goat, pig, vhatever! Dis is not Animal Farm!" North pulled away, clapping him on the back and almost driving him to his knees but months of experience with this had conditioned him to just take it. "Now, I bid you all a good night."

"Night North!" Jack called, waving his staff in farewell. "See you whenever I drop in?"

North nodded. "You know you're always welcome around here Jack." He went to give the boy a hug but Jack smoothly side-stepped him.

"Thanks but no thanks North. Maybe Pitch doesn't mind that, but I'm not in the mood to get squished just at the moment."

North laughed his great belly-laugh and clapped the boy on the shoulder. "Very vell Jack. I see you later. Toothy,"

Tooth raised a hand to interrupt. "Wait a minute North, Pitch had something he wanted to tell us, didn't you dear?" She turned around to look at him expectantly.

The others also turned their gazes back to him. Pitch coughed. "Never mind that, it was just something about some spirits that I ran into the other day. I'll tell you about it tomorrow." _Now why did I say that?_ He wondered as he leaned forward and kissed Tooth. He had been meaning to tell Tooth about the girl for hours! _Why _had he just thrown away what was surely going to be his only opportunity?! "I'd better get going. There are a few things back at the caves I need to attend to." He told Tooth, giving her a gentle hug before turning around and heading for the closest shadow.

Tooth stood there, frozen for a moment before she realized what was happening and she waved, calling out, "I love you darling!"

Pitch stopped, already half engulfed in the shadow of the work bench which would take him back through the shadow-realm and deposited him straight back in his home. If it knew what was good for it. "I love you too Tooth," He said, then turned around and disappeared.

The Guardians stood there, staring at the shadow which their newest member had disappeared into for a long time, as if waiting to make sure he would not re-appear before they started to move again. Of course, it was Jack who spoke the first words.

"Well that was...weird."

North nodded, his bushy eyebrows bunched over his eyes in a thoughtful frown. "Indeed." He murmured, stroking his beard.

Tooth turned to Jack and the winter-bringer could still see the tears of concern hidden behind her dry eyes. "Are you sure that was wise?" She asked him earnestly, her eyes boring into his blue ones like jackhammers- no pun intended. "Humoring him like that?"

Jack nodded, rising into the air slightly and crossing his legs so that he floated kind of like a Buddha statue. "It was wise, trust me." He told her firmly, nodding his snowy-head. "I've been through this kind of thing before. The best thing for us to do is just to go along with Pitch and pretend like it never happened."

North swung around to face the boy. "Vhat kind of thing, Jack?" He asked, puzzled. "Toothy, vhat is he talking about?"

Tooth shrugged. "I honestly have no idea either. Jack just told me when Pitch started asking questions about the last year to stay far away from the subject, for Pitch's sake." Her wings started buzzing agitatedly, like a hummingbird that had spied a predator.

"That's right." Jack told them. "When I was younger I had to deal with this kind of thing a lot. Blocking out bad things that happened to me. It's a natural thing for people that have had traumatic stuff happen to them. Jamie told me about this," he explained when they both gave him a weird look. "I didn't know anything about this until Jamie pulled out some psychology books and explained it to me."

"Den please, explain it to us." North said, folding his arms over his chest.

Jack nodded. "Well, see he explained to me like this: I choose to act all happy all the time and immature as a three-year-old- his words, not mine." He added when Tooth chuckled. "And I do that because it's my way of coping with intense stress and physical trauma. Again, his words, not mine. I think it's a bunch of psychobabble bs that wouldn't impress a third grader, but it seems like it might just be true for Pitch."

North's frown deepened. "How so?" He asked. "It is true, Pitch has grown very depressed since Ab- since _her _death," he amended, bowing his head. They didn't like saying her name aloud. It was kind of like a tabboo. Any mention of the girl would bring back their own sad, wonderful memories of her, and none of them wanted that right now. Tight now, they needed to figure out how to help Pitch. "But he would've had to come out of his mourning sooner or later."

"That's what we all thought would happen," Tooth murmured quietly, looking down at her feet as she recalled how difficult those first few months had been. For all of them. None of them had been able to do their jobs; they couldn't. Not with her face burned into their subconsciousnesses. Everyone had been depressed. Even Bunny, the Guardian of Hope hadn't been able to lift their spirits and their only source of consolation was that each of hem was equally as miserable as the others.

Then, as it is bound to do, time wore on. And they were all able to work through their grief. All of them, that is, except Pitch. There was no 'getting over it' for him. For him, it was the death of more than just a friend. It was like the death of a family member, despite the fact that he hadn't ever seen her face.

North reached over and put an arm around her shoulder. "Vell, maybe it is for best." He said, trying to console her. "Dis is vhat ve vanted, is it not? For him to find solace and come back to us?"

Tooth nodded reluctantly. "Yeah..."

But they could tell her heart wasn't really in the answer.

Jack sighed silently and put a fake smile on his face- something he absolutely despised doing but he did for Tooth anyway because he thought she deserved it. "Think of it this way," he told her, waving a hand. "Pitch is just following the normal steps of grieving loss. Only, he's doing it a lot...OK make that a hell of a lot slower than most people do. But he's doing it never the less! And even better, from what I saw he's decided to completely forget about the last few months. He's moving on Tooth," he said, looking straight into her eyes. Moon above it was killing him to be so serious! "And I would think you'd be glad for him."

Tooth frowned, thinking it over. That could be it, she supposed. He could be trying to block out her memory so that he could finally get back into the world and get back to doing his job. Then she remembered how he had behaved; all shifty and evasive. She hadn't liked it one bit. Don't get her wrong, the fact that he was up and about and doing his job was wonderful, but...

"But it all seems a bit sudden." She said aloud, voicing her thoughts.

"Dat's right." North agreed. "A year vithout contact vith anyone outside of us, not to mention a year of grieving and suddenly he just decides to move on and forget about her? No, I do not be thinking so."

Jack sighed. "Well, I can't control what you guys think. Again this is just a bunch of psychobabble bs that I learned from Jamie that I thought might help you guys to understand where he's coming from. And, speaking as someone who's been through this before, I think it would be best if you guys just forgot about the last year too. It's only going to make it hurt more."

With that, the winter Guardian rose from his sitting position and aimed his staff for the open window. A blast of cold air rippled through the room as he shot off into the darkness, leaving North and Tooth alone with his words echoing in their ears.

Tooth turned to North, hoping for some more wise words from the toymaker Guardian but she received none. Just a warm hug and a promise that if Pitch came back to the Pole, he would call for her. She thanked him, then left and as she flew through the night, heading back to her mountain home, she wondered just what had happened to her Boogeyman to make him change so drastically.

She made it home nearly three hours later, and immediately upon entering her Palace she was set upon by a flock of her fairy daughters, spear-headed by Baby Tooth. Apparently there was a massive back-up in coin production and she needed to go down and have a chat with the dwarves through which she had set up her mining contracts.

"Alright," she told Baby Tooth. "Lead me to them." She would come back to this later. But, as it turned out the mix-up wasn't just in the coin department.

One of the dwarves had accidentally mined into a platinum ore and had hauled a few hundred cartloads of it up to the machines that produced her magical coins which were capable of changing shape to match the currency of the region in which they were being dropped. The result was a few thousand pounds of useless metal that has no magical effect and a very angry dwarven excavator, plus a few nasty complaints from the Leprechaun whose home was situated on the other side of the hemisphere, but was still close enough to her home that the mining disruption started causing issues with him as well.

"I'm sorry," She apologized profusely to a herd of angry dwarves, their pick-axes gleaming. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the platinum ore, but the fact is that I didn't even know about it! I thought you dwarves would be able to smell it."

The dwarves erupted into a torrential storm of outrage, claiming that was an insult to their kind and Tooth had to fight hard to keep from sighing. It was going to be a long night.

And that was how the Tooth Fairy completely forgot about her boyfriend's strange behavior. By the time she finally made peace with the dwarves and collapsed into her bed, she barely had a few seconds before her eyes closed and she was fast asleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Why didn't I tell them?"

That was the question on Pitch Black's lips as he paced around his library, his hands clasped behind his back as he thought. His mind was a tremulous whirlwind of thoughts and worry, for himself, for Tooth, and even for the girl. And speaking of the girl…

"Why didn't I tell Tooth about her? I had every reason to, _every_ opportunity, and yet I _still_ lied and told her everything was alright. _Why?_"

Pitch sighed, unclasping his hands and raising one of them to wipe his forehead of imaginary sweat. _You know why, _the little voice inside his head told him. _It's because you're afraid. Afraid of what Tooth will think of you once you tell her how you obtained the girl. _

"No,"

_And you're afraid that she'll be disgusted, call you a monster._

"No!"

_And even better, now you have a child inside your own home that is terrified of you. What is that, a pick-me-up for your days when you just don't feel like yourself?_

Pitch gritted his teeth. He had a sick sense of humor. Gallows humor, Tooth called it. And he felt disgusted with himself for even thinking of such a thing.

_Though_, he reflected sadly, closing his eyes. _Who could blame her? _Who could blame either of them, Tooth or the girl? Nobody could be blamed for being afraid of him. That had been his sole purpose in life, up until a few hundred years ago. And it might still have been, had the Guardians not rescued him.

He frowned, trying to recall what Jack had said to her that changed her entire attitude around him. Something about changing for the better? Was the boy trying to convince her of something relating to the strange words of Onyx and Baby Tooth? Was this all some convoluted plot to drive him completely insane?

"No, that's just stupid." He muttered. "Tooth and Jack both love me like family. They wouldn't go this far for just a stupid joke."

Yes, his meeting with the three Guardians had produced a few meager answers, but they had also produced multiple questions that he wasn't even _capable _of answering- more than a few of them being about himself but the majority of them being about Tooth's strange behavior.

_Yet more damn questions to add to the list, _he thought sourly. Which reminded him of all the still as yet unanswered questions he had about the girl still rattling around inside his skull and, rather than give himself a useless headache, he decided to focus on her for the time being. Like Tooth, he was a procrastinator by heart, and he firmly believed that, eventually, things would find a way to sort themselves out. In the end.

_If you have so many questions, _the voice which was starting to sound strangely like Kozmotis offered. _Why don't you just go ask her? _

Pitch sighed. He _couldn't _go ask her. He didn't want to see the fear in her eyes again. The fear that he had worked so hard to eradicate from young children, but which had come back in tenfold in the girl because of his _stupid_ mistakes.

He rolled his eyes skyward, wishing that Manny would appear and help him, counsel him into making some good decisions instead of all the bad ones he had been making lately. Kidnapping the girl, lying to Tooth and to himself for a start. None of those had been good choices. and he knew that once he got started on a path like this it would only be a matter of time before worse choices started being made. Choices that would eventually destroy him. And he could not let that happen again.

"How ironic," he said softly, turning his head back to the fireplace and gazing deeply into the bright depths. "That the Guardian of Courage can be considered the biggest coward in the world."

He knew he was being hard on himself, but it didn't make him feel any better about it. He was a coward, that was true enough. But he was a _reformed _coward. The regaining of his memories and meeting the spirit he used to be had made him a better man, it was true, but it had does something else that was far more important. It had opened his eyes to just how complicated a person he really was. All the guilt, all the pain, all the darkness that had been clogging his Chukras which Manny had helped him destroy, that was _nothing_ compared to what lurked inside his heart now. Fear. Unrelenting, terrible fear which had stolen in like a shadow and was now festering inside his heart, working its way into his thoughts.

"I can't let it control me," he told himself, raising his hands to his heart. His pulse was quickening. "I can't let it control me! Yes, I'm afraid, but there is good reason for me to be! I am facing the unknown, with months and months of work ahead of me and I don't even know if they will be worth it in the end or not. But I am going to try nevertheless."

His breathing had slowed somewhere in the middle of his little monolog and by the time he stopped, his pulse was back to normal.

He sighed, suddenly feeling as if a great burden had been lifted off of his chest. His heart felt lighter, warmer. More at ease than it had before, as if by verbalizing his fears he had somehow reduced their hold over him. He smiled, standing up and heading for the door. There was someone he needed to see and this sudden burst of good emotions and courage might just be enough to carry him through it.

_As long as I keep a clear head and know that even if this is unknown territory, I can still do it, I will be fine._ He told himself firmly, crossing the room and glancing at the elegant grandfather clock which stood against the wall beside the bookshelves. It was an old Italian piece which he had rescued from a garbage barge in Venice, sometime in the fifteenth century. It had been made of solid oak with a golden face, stained glass panels in the front and ivory numbers mounted in the traditional circle, sporting a pair of golden arrows for hands. Hands which were currently held steady at the roman numerals VI and II.

"Damn," Pitch murmured, squinting up at the numbers as he passed. "Six ten in the afternoon already? I was at North's a long time."

He reached the large door at the end of the room without duress and opened it. Where normally the hinges groaned and creaked like the timbers of a ship at sea, for him they were as silent at the grave. He shut the door soundlessly, making sure to lock it before he headed back down the hallway in the direction of the girl's room. As he walked he felt his knees pop once. Then he rolled his eyes as he felt his wrist do the same unintentionally. "My age is starting to show worse than Jack's is," he muttered, making a swift turn through a wall to avoid a pair of Nightmares who were walking along an adjoining corridor.

As he walked, his mind started drifting slowly off into space and random thoughts. He wondered how Tooth was doing now, wherever she was, and when he would see her again. He wondered about Manny. Had Nightlight told him about the girl? And eventually, as he knew they would, his thoughts turned back to the girl.

_She's probably still asleep,_ he mused, staring off into space as her features filled his mind. He couldn't feel any of her fear anymore, he hadn't since he had returned, so at least she wasn't having any more nightmares. He sighed. "What am I going to do with her?" Pitch demanded of the empty air, staring up at the rocky sky flitting by above him. No answer. Not that he had expected one. His head dropped down and another sigh escaped his lips. "She's already tried to escape more than twice, and I don't doubt she's going to do it again. She must feel like a rat in a maze, poor thing."

He knew exactly how that felt. He had felt the same way, running through the stone walls of his mind with Kozmotis, trying to dodge the Fearling and find his memories before they were destroyed.

Suddenly, Nightlight's words of earlier came back to light, echoing in the fore-front of his mind. _Sometimes what we want isn't exactly the same as what we need._ _And what she needs right now isn't a home, or training. What she needs… is a friend._

A friend. The one thing he hadn't learned in the last year. He had learned how to be a boyfriend, and how to be part of a family, but friendship was something almost entirely new to him. And yet, strangely, he didn't feel same the fear of the unknown as he had when he had spoken with the light spirit. Only an insatiable curiosity and desire to learn more about her.

"I think Nightlight was right," he murmured, his pace quickening. "I think that what she needs...what we both need...is a friend."

It made sense. The Fearlings had taught him humility and pain. The Guardians had taught him love and kindness. And now, in this new chapter of his life as a spirit, it appeared it was this girl's job to teach him the most invaluable lesson of friendship. One no one else had been able to teach him, so far.

He heard the whinny of a Nightmare and looked up, but it was only Onyx. He was here.

"How is she?" He asked eagerly.

Onyx shrugged. _I talked with her a little bit, but she's been quiet for the last few hours or so. I haven't gone inside for half an hour, but I was just about to._

Pitch patted her neck gently. "Go rest for a while Onyx, I'll watch her." Onyx whinnied nervously but he rubbed her muzzle and said patiently, "Go on, enjoy it. What can she do?"

Onyx snorted. _You would be surprised._ She muttered before turning on all four heels and trotting off back to the pen where her sisters were waiting.

Pitch watched her go and didn't turn back to the door until she turned around the bend. Then he turned back to the door and, without hesitation, opened it. Immediately the first thing he saw was the girl. She was sitting in the center of the large, black bed he had given her with her legs crossed, wearing the guise of a younger girl about Jamie's age of what looked like African descent, wearing a filthy brown smock and shredded brown trousers. Her hair was a rat's nest of dirt and tangles which hung down in dark-brown nets that almost completely covered her face but weren't thick enough to cover her bright green eyes.

Pitch sidled in to the room silently, shutting the door. She didn't move. Her gaze was directed somewhere to her left at the rock wall, as if she was trying to bore her way out. Poor thing, he thought. Even if it is just a guise, she looks so dirty and cold.

"You know," he said softly, walking into the dim firelight of the room. "I can let you take a bath if you behave." He hadn't meant to scare her but she jumped never the less, spinning around in a flash and raising her hands as if to defend herself. Once she realized who he was however, she quickly recovered herself. Not saying a word, she raised her arms and grinned at his look of horror when the chains that bound her to the bed practically melted through her skin.

It took Pitch exactly .2 seconds to realize what was going on, but that .2 was .2 seconds too late. She exploded off the bed like a bat out of hell, hitting and kicking at speeds which would've shamed any martial artist- not to mention several cheetahs. Each powerful blow caught the unsuspecting Boogeyman in the legs, arms, stomach and yes, groin. He was driven to his knees in a matter of seconds. He tried to defend himself, but her smaller form made her much faster and more able to dodge his retaliations that he was.

"Stop!" He cried when a particularly powerful kick landed on his knee. "Please, I'm trying to- AH!" His protests were cut short by a back-hand across the face which threw him backwards onto his ass where he lay, groaning and trying to keep the stream of curses that so badly wanted to be let loose from his lips. His eyes were closed in agony, but he could clearly hear her footsteps moving closer and he cracked his eyes open. She was trying to run past him. "Wait," he croaked, reaching out a hand to try and grab her ankle as she vaulted over him but his fingers brushed short and he heard the pitter-patter of light feet as she started bolting down the hall.

Pitch groaned and sent a telepathic message out to every Nightmare in the caves. Screw secrecy. _Stop the girl! Bring her back to me! Don't hurt her, don't let her escape!_

The message was received loud and clear throughout the entire network of caves as thousands of Nightmares took off to obey their master. Even if they weren't entirely sure what he meant by girl, they did understand one thing. There was a source of fear in their home, and they meant to find it.

They erupted out of the pens like a black tidal wave, Onyx in the lead. The first thing they did was block all the exits, ensuring that this little scared mouse would stay in her maze. _Don't hurt her!_ She ordered the lieutenants she left at the entrance of the lair as they thundered away, back down the corridor. _And don't feed off of her, or you'll feel mine and Pitch's wrath!_

They whinnied in affirmation and she turned her attention to her next task; actually finding the girl. The others were asking her dozens of questions about what girl Pitch was talking about and why she was here but she ignored them, focusing on the source of fear that was drawing her in with the heavy scent of smoldering burning lavender. It took them less than five minutes of running before they spotted her. She was standing in front of a huge wooden door that Onyx recognized as Pitch's library, and it looked like she was trying to break in.

As soon as she heard their hoof beats she spun around, raising her fists and dropping low, like a cat ready to pounce. Onyx stepped forward.

_We don't want to hurt you, _she told her._ Come peacefully, and we won't have to knock you out. _

She bared her teeth and, without warning, leaped forward with her arms outstretched, her hands curved like jagged claws. Onyx shuffled back, neighing in shock and she reared up out of pure instinct. The girl grabbed for her legs and tried to topple her, but Onyx kicked out and the blow landed on her shoulder, throwing her back. The other Nightmares surrounded her, drawn to the seductive scent of her fear and one leaned forward, trying to feed but Onyx slammed into her, pushing her over and she landed on the ground with a loud thump and a tremor that shook the caves.

_I said leave her alone! _She bellowed, standing over the girl protectively with her nostrils flared, daring anyone else to try to attack her. Before she even knew what was happening, she felt a hand around her neck and felt the weight of a body fall onto her back.

"Get me the hell out of here!" The girl screamed, kicking her in the sides and Onyx, being the image of a horse, immediately bolted down the nearest hallway with the others hot on her heels.

_You don't have to do this!_ She told the girl who was frantically looking behind them and spurring her with her bare heels every few seconds to get her to run faster. _He can help you!_

"I don't care!" She hissed, grabbing a handful of Onyx's mane and yanking it. "Now _move it!_ Take me out of here, or else I'll gut you."

Onyx stopped dead in mid gallop, her heels grinding into the hard rocky surface of the floor as she skidded to a halt. The girl spurred her again.

"Come on, move you stupid horse!" She yelled, yanking on her mane but Onyx had had enough of this. If the girl wanted to play dirty, _fine_. They would play dirty. She reared up on her hind legs, as high as she could and bucked, trying to toss her off but the girl held on. She was screaming her head off and the echoes of her voice made a morbid cacophony that encircled them like a wreath.

_GET OFF ME!_ Onyx roared, bucking and kicking, thrashing like a wild bull and only when she slammed her side into the rock wall did the girl finally relinquish her grip. Onyx bucked hard and she flew off like bird from a roost, landing on her back and Onyx heard a sickening crack as her head impacted on the floor. She was immediately at her side, hoping that she hadn't injured her too seriously. _Girl? _She asked, nudging her with her hoof. She groaned. Good, she was still alive then.

"Onyx!"

Onyx spun around. Oh hell, here came her master_. Pitch, please, I can explain,_ she said quickly as he came rushing up to meet her. Then, as she saw the look of utter horror on his face when he saw the girl she realized that she couldn't explain. Not really. The girl had just acted, without reason or pretense. There was really nothing else to it.

He stared at her for a long, long moment before finally turning to Onyx and the small troup of Nightmares that had sidled in behind her silently and unnoticed. "What...happened?" He asked weakly. Onyx winced. His tone sounded so defeated, so tired of it all and she felt so guilty for adding yet more stress to his already heavy heart.

_Well... _she shuffled her hooves. _She tried to get out through your library and they cornered her. One of them fried to feed off of her and I stopped them, but she attacked me and leaped up onto my back, trying to use me as a way to get out of here. _That had sounded much more believable in her head, but Pitch appeared to not care whither it was the truth or not. In fact, come to think of it, he didn't even look angry at her, or the girl, OR the other Nightmares for hurting her. That was so not like Pitch. _Um...Pitch...are you alright? _She asked hesitantly, pushing against his shoulder gently with her muzzle.

Pitch nodded and bent over her. With a grunt, he picked her up bridal-style and laid the girl across her back like a sack of potatoes. "She's heavier than she looks," He muttered, turning to the other Nightmares. "Get out of here," he snarled.

They all turned tail and fled.

Onyx snorted in amusement. There, _that _was more like her Pitch.

Then he turned back to her and said, "Let's get her back to her room. I need to check for bleeding and concussion again."

Onyx obediently trotted slowly forward and Pitch followed her, keeping his hands on the girl's shoulders in order to keep her from sliding off either way. They reached her room within minutes and once Pitch took her and laid her back on her bed and secured her with the chains- this time putting them around her ankles instead of her wrists, he turned to Onyx.

"I want you at her side, day and night. Alright Onyx? I don't want any of the others anywhere near her. It's obvious they can't control themselves around her, and instead of answering a bunch of questions I think it will be better if they stay away from her altogether."

Onyx nodded. _Of course. _

"I will come to relieve you when I can, but for now I want you watching her every second you can. If she changes her shape, knock her out. That way she can't escape like that again." Pitch sighed, turning his head to look back at her. His eyes were blank and glassy, but there was something behind them that Onyx didn't like. He leaned forward and placed a hand on her forehead, feeling around for bumps.

The instant his fingers made contact with her skin she jerked to life, swearing and thrashing like a hurricane. Pitch jumped back, snatching his hand away from her as she screamed and cursed. He sighed. It was going to be a loooong night.


	8. It'll Still Be Two Days Till I Say Sorry

**Hey guys, I'm baaaaack! After a short two weeks of work and attempting connections with all of my bestest buds- among them the wonderful Starskulls, who I completely forgot to thank in the last few chapters and I am so sorry for that sweetie! You know I love you all equally and am so glad that we were able to talk yesterday! You- star, and all of you other readers and writers out there who helped me with this story will always be the heart of this story. **

**Alrighty then, let's get this show on the road! The next few chapters will be quite the rollar-coaster I guarantee! Hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Karma is a bitch. This I have learned. Really. How else can you account for all the frikking bad luck I've suffered including and not limited to: losing my memories, getting kidnapped, and every single flipping escape attempt that I made failing miserably! Really, all I needed to do was to wait for that Onyx horse thing to leave, make sure no one else was there and then I would've been easy-out of here! But _NOOO_, Karma decides to wreck all my careful planning and then add insult to injury and slap me in the face.

Well, _technically_ it had been the other guy that had gotten slapped in the face, not me. And, to be honest it hadn't been that much careful planning. Those chains had been child's play to slip out of, once I changed my shape.

Maybe I'd better take a few steps back.

After the cryptic conversation with Onyx, I was left to my own devices for the better part of three or so hours. It might've been more, since I had no means of judging time, but regardless I chose to use those few precious hours of privacy to try and come up with a plan to get my ass out of here. It wasn't easy.

My body was still weak from the forced Change it had undergone and I was pretty sure I had a few minor injuries, among them a broken rib and bruises galore. That in itself put a hitch in my planning almost form the start, and it didn't help that every time I moved I felt shooting pain arise in my chest, pressing down on it and making me gasp for air.

Basically, I was helpless in the current form. He had made sure the cuffs were tight, not tight enough to cut off blood circulation, but tight enough that there was no way I was slipping them off while I was like this. Which meant that I would never be able to get out of here, unless I did something drastic and painful. Namely, Changing into someone smaller. I knew I wasn't going to like it, but what choice did I have? And so I Changed, back into the slimmer, more wiry form of the young girl in raggedy clothes, thinking only of getting out of those annoying cuffs but instead, Changing my shape gave me access to so much more!

The process itself hurt like hell- I mean, what can you expect from something that squishes your bones and re-molds your face? –but soon it was over with and I was left gasping on the black bed, trying to quell the shaking that normally followed my changing while simultaneously trying not to throw up as my organs realigned themselves inside me. It was only after everything was back in its proper place, however, that I realized something was missing.

The pain.

All the previous agony that I had experienced, all the physical trauma from the fighting and the running, was gone. And all I was left with was a slightly sore feeling which would go away after a few minutes.

I lifted my hand to my chest, pressing down gently on my rib cage to test if I was imagining things. Nope. I wasn't. The broken rub was MIA, the bruises too. I even checked my head and the goose egg that had been slowly forming throughout the night had vanished without a trace.

I fell back onto the pillows, grinning to myself. "Well, this is interesting." I murmured to the darkness, slipping my skinny wrists through the cuffs without issue and rubbing the spots where it had scraped against the skin tenderly. "Maybe my luck is changing after all."

I…should…have…bit…my…tongue.

Straight up. From that moment on, things went from bad to worse.

I spent about an hour walking around the room, testing my limits by sprinting from one end of the little cavern to the other in short little bursts of energy and punching the pillow on the bed. I even stretched a little. I needed to be ready at a moment's notice, and for the longest time I stood beside the door, listening to the soft sound of Onyx breathing outside. I knew there was no way I could get out of here with her around, so after about ten or so minutes I retired back to the bed and pretended to still be chained up. My theory is, if I couldn't outrun the horse, then at least I could try to outrun her master.

And…well…you know how that turned out. Lots of running and screaming, me getting knocked on the head– again! –and so yeah, I ended up back on the bed, chained up. Same old same old. Only this time when I woke up, it was less than pleasant.

The first thing I saw was, of course, darkness. I say of course because I was turned away from the only light source in the room and my face was buried in a pillow. What I heard, however, was a different story.

Two voices, one male, one female. That guy Pitch and Onyx, I guessed. They were talking far away from me, and in hushed tones, presumably so that I wouldn't over-hear whatever they were planning for me. I stayed as still as I could, trying not to breathe too fast so that I could at least hear some of what they were whispering.

Most of it was Onyx talking, and as I listened to her words I realized that she was reporting all the things I had said to her earlier to him!

_That dirty rotten snitch,_ I thought ruefully. _Just wait 'till I get out of here. I'm gonna dye her mane pink and turn her into a plushie!_

But strangely, he didn't seem to be as interested in me as before. Not _me_ me, as in who I was, but more interested in whither I was OK or not.

"Get any medical…you can…Onyx." He told her, his voice anxious. "Steal it from the Pole if you must, but she can't…" His voice trailed off and I felt myself tense. Did he know I was awake?

As soon as I heard the footsteps coming towards me I knew it was true. I shut my eyes, slowing my breathing down to a crawl even though my little lungs cried out in agony but I forced myself to keep the pace. _Please,_ I pleaded with whoever the hell was listening. _**Please**__ let him think I'm still asleep._

My prayers fell on deaf ears.

"You know," he said quietly. I heard a creak and felt the bed sag slightly as he sat down. "When pretending to be asleep, it is advisable not to hold one's breath."

I didn't react. Maybe if I ignored him…

"You might as well give up." He told me, sounding amused now. "I know you're awake. I can smell your fear."

_What kind of a creep says that?! __**I can smell your fear;**__ sounds like a line from the Hunger Games or something!_

I felt a hand resting on my shoulder. "Come on, wake up dear." He said gently, as if he were speaking to a beloved family member and not a captive. "I can't let you sleep any more or else your soul will be pulled into the Void."

_That_ got my attention. "What the hell?" I muttered, rolling over to look at him through my half-lidded eyes. Void? What the hell was a void? Was he saying he was going to take my soul?

He smiled and brought his hands together once in a resonating clap that rang in my ears for a good five to ten seconds before it faded. "She lives," he said dryly, smiling down at me. His eyes were bright and in the darkness, his teeth gleamed. "You gave Onyx and me quite a scare, hitting your head like that."

I gave him a dubious look like, _I_ scared _you?_

He chuckled. "I know, I know you don't believe me, but I really am glad you're alright." He tried to lay a hand on my shoulder but I shirked away and shot him a warning look. He ignored it. "Listen, I am sorry about what the Nightmares did to you." He told me, gripping my shoulder tightly and staring straight into my eyes with a look that was so sappy and remorseful that it made me want to gag. "I didn't mean for it to happen, and you can rest assured that I will not allow it to happen again."

I rolled my eyes and muttered, "Yeah, sure."

His eyes narrowed and he almost looked like he was insulted. "I have been trying my utmost to keep you safe, but I can't keep doing that if you keep trying to escape! Trust me child, you _need_ my help to survive in this world."

I rolled my eyes and turned my back on him, not in the mood for a sermon. _I don't need his help,_ I thought firmly. _I don't need anyone's help!_ _I can make it on my own!_

I heard a sigh from behind me. "I know what you're thinking," he told me.

I snorted.

"No really. You're thinking that you can fight the whole world on your own, without a single bit of help. You don't need anyone else." He moved around until he was facing me again. "I know," he told me softly, staring into my eyes. "Because I felt the exact same way before I found my family."

I snorted again. _Yeah, right._

He was sitting on his knees, kneeling in front of me on the ground and making me feel much taller on my perch, but when I snorted he straightened up slightly so that he was eye to eye with me. "I won't force you to let me in," he told me, his eyes trapping mine. I could not look away. There was something in those eyes that forced my own to match his gaze. Something compelling me so strongly that even as he continued speaking, I couldn't take my eyes off him. "Goodness knows I wouldn't have when I was a young spirit, but I do hope that, eventually, you will at least give me a chance to get to know you."

I sighed tiredly._ Look, bub, you're a weirdo and, as much as I like weirdos, you kidnapped me. We are __**not **__going to become BFF's and sing Kumbaya. No way in hell. Sorry. Maybe Onyx will let you be her friend. You already seem pretty close._

I could tell by the hopeful look in his eyes that he hadn't understood a work of my thoughts. Odd. He seemed to be pretty good at reading my expressions before. "Well?" He asked, smiling. "What do you say?"

I gave him a cheesy, nervous half-smile that was the fakest I could muster. _I say, you're going to get a lot more bruises in the future pal._

His smile turned into a fully-fledged grin. He reached forward, bending at the waist and tousled my hair. I resisted the urge to bite him. "Well, I guess that's a start." He said, standing up and making his way back around the bed. I followed him with my eyes, keeping my clenched fists hidden beneath my blanket. If he touched me one more time, there would be hell to pay. "Now, I had better go. You look like you need a little bit of rest. I'll come back in a few hours with your breakfast and then maybe we can talk more."

I nodded, that fake smile still plastered across my face. _Yeah, sure. Let's talk about how good your head will look on my wall. _The smile faltered for a second as I reconsidered my words. _Jeez, I'm getting kinda violent. Maybe I should cut down on those nasty comic books._

He smiled and reached forward to shake my hand, but I pulled my hand back and it took all my willpower to keep my face straight. I shook my head.

He hesitated for a minute, then pulled his hand back and nodded. "That's alright. I understand that these things take time." He glanced back at the door. "Now, I know you don't much care for the Nightmares," he told her as he straightened up gracefully. I snorted as if that were an obvious fact. "But I will have one guarding you at all times. If you need anything, I'll be right down the hall in my library. OK?"

I nodded, knowing that the library was a lot farther than _just down the hall. _I allowed myself to say, "OK." Back to him, though I did it as softly as I could without going fully silent.

He nodded, grinning. "I have a feeling this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship my dear," he said, still beaming as he turned around and headed for the door which he opened. I heard him say something to the horse that I'm sure was standing outside like a good little guard before wheeling around to look at me once last time. "Pleasant dreams." He bowed his head once cordially, like a prince after a dance, then left.

I glared at the closed door, the click of the lock echoing in my ears. "I hope you get some sleep too," I told the empty air. I almost winced at the venom in my own voice. "Because it'll probably be the last sleep you're gonna get for a while."

XXXXXX

Pitch was still beaming as he headed back to his library. His smile stretched wide across his face, wider than any smile he could remember. There was a warm, fuzzy feeling radiating from the center of his chest that encompassed his entire being, making his strides longer and giving him a little spring in his step. So much spring, in fact, that he could barely control himself as he practically danced down the corridor. And he knew exactly what it was.

"Progress!" He told himself, practically giddy at the thought. "We've made progress! She's talking to me, she's talking to Onyx, soon she'll be telling me all about herself and I can finally help her!" Jubilation spread through his system and by the time he opened the doors to his library, crossed the threshold and sat down in his chair, he almost wanted to hug something. And, as anyone knows, the Boogeyman is normally _not _the hugging type.

"It's strange how much one single action can affect the psyche of a person," he murmured, picking up one of the books that he had left in a pile beside the chair and opening it. It was just another one of his many books on mythics. "Then again," he continued, standing up and picking up the first few volumes from the mountain of books and stacking them in his arms so that he could put them away properly. Never let it be said that the Boogeyman doesn't keep a clean library. "Losing the Nightmare war was what brought me into the Guardians' family."

In retrospect, it was the little things that really made life. That was true now more than ever, especially in light of recent events. If he hadn't left the caves that particular night what felt like years ago but, in reality was only a few days, he would never have met the girl and then she would still be out on the streets, trying to discover her purpose.

Pitch wandered around in the stacks for a bit, replacing books back into the lonely gaps they had left amongst their fellows and thinking about this theory with a smile on his face. There were a few he decided to keep out for easy access, mostly ones he hadn't finished reading, but the rest went back on their shelves carefully.

He smiled, trailing a hand along one of the thick volumes. "I love this place," he murmured, inhaling the thick, musky odor of old books. It was true. He hadn't appreciated it much before, but ever since he had built this place, his library was always the one place he could go to think and relax where the Nightmares wouldn't bother him. The one place he could be at peace with himself. "I hope I can take her here someday." He murmured. Then he stopped. "Good grief, I'm already starting to think of her as a friend and I don't even know her!"

Once Pitch had put the majority of his books away, he retired back to his warm chair in front of the fire. But, instead of picking up a new book he hadn't read before, he chose to simply close his eyes and be enveloped into the warmth and comfort of the chair. His mind drifted with idle thoughts and as he slowly slipped away into the welcoming arms of sleep he found himself praying to Manny that her good mood lasted and that they would finally come to an understanding.

Sadly, he didn't specify just how soon _finally _would be. And as a result, she continued trying to escape.

And, because she had a demonic sense of humor and apparently enjoyed seeing him in psychological torment, she decided to space them out throughout the next few weeks leading into February.

The next time she tried to escape was a day later when he showed up with her dinner. He had visited her several times in between the time he had last seen her and then, but both of those times she had been asleep and he had just laid the tray of food on the floor beside her bed for when she woke up. Onyx took care of the rest. But this time, when he arrived with a tray full of spaghetti and meat-balls, she wasn't even there.

Pitch opened the door slowly, taking care not to slam it and startle her. "Good morning," He called, his back to the bed as he gently closed the door. Only when he turned around did he realize that he was talking to an empty room. He dropped the tray, the echoing clang resonating throughout the chamber and bellowed for his steed. "ONYX!"

The Nightmare thundered through the door, skidding to a halt beside her master, her nostrils flaring as she looked around for trouble. _What is it Pitch? Did she attack you again? _She asked, looking around the room feverishly.

Pitch wheeled around to face her, the food forgotten. "No, it's worse than that. She's gone. Again." He gritted his teeth savagely. "Gone, while _you _were supposed to be watching her!" He punctuated his words by raising a threatening finger and pointing it at her.

Onyx backed up, watching the finger pointed straight at her muzzle as if it were a gun. _I'll go after her right away Pitch,_ she said, hoping to flee the room before he got any more angry. She succeeded and, after a lot of yelling, screaming, running and dreamsand blasting she ended back up in chains.

But it hadn't ended there. Oh no. As the days passed, she became increasingly more difficult to deal with. The warm, fuzzy feelings had long-since faded and some days Pitch was forced to leave her alone for hours at a time to keep himself from ripping his own hair out with frustration. Every single time he tried to talk with her, she would either glare at him stonily and not say a word or she would close her eyes and ignore him completely. And the few times where she did respond they were short, bittersweet comments that she spat out like globules of acid.

Such conversations went something like this:

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"I have extended my hospitality to you, taken you in and helped you in ways that no one else could. And the only thing I ask is that you speak to me."

"Leave me alone."

"Aren't you ever going to tell me your name?"

"Screw off."

"You know quite a lot of curses for such a young spirit."

She then proceeded to display just how robust her vocabulary was by reciting an entire five minutes worth of curses alphabetically. And when she was done he leaned back, more impressed than anything.

"Can you teach me some of those?"

"Get stuffed."

And it only got better from there.

The next time she tried to escape, she wasn't even detected until about an hour afterwards and when they did, it was only because of pure dumb luck. And the fact that Pitch could hear her screaming all the way from the library.

He jumped to his feet, knowing those screams. He swore and whistled for Onyx who appeared instantly, barreling through the double doors. He hauled himself up onto her back and spurred her forward without a single word, his internal fear radar already honing in on the burnt lavender aroma of her fear. "Hurry," he hissed in Onyx's ear as they thundered down the corridor. "There's no knowing what kind of trouble she's gotten herself into this time!"

Trouble was right. They followed her scent past the hot springs and into the deeper, darker caverns that lay beneath the surface. "Come on, come on, tell me where you are dammit!" He growled, listening and trying to sift through the aromas of his and Onyx's own fear. It was clear that she had wandered down here in attempt to leave, but as the slimy rock walls grew slimier and Pitch was forced to use the light of Onyx's bright eyes to see in the dark, he found himself wondering just how damn far she had gone?!

Pretty damn deep as it turned out. Pitch was just starting to notice the lava flowing through the rock walls on either side of him when he heard her screams again, very close at hand. He spurred Onyx harder, his only thoughts for her safety and when he finally tracked her down he found her running like a bat out of hell, screaming like a banshee with her hands flailing wildly.. It looked like she was being chased by something, but Pitch couldn't see what until it barreled out of the same tunnel opening she had.

It was a giant spider, bigger even than the one that had attacked him and Tooth. And, to make matters worse, this one looked severely pissed off at having to run a mile for its meal. Its mandibles were the size of elephant tusks and the legs alone were like giant, hairy tree trunks. But the body, now _that_ was something that sent a slight shiver down the Boogeyman's spine. Even sitting atop Onyx's towering six foot frame with an attritional three and a half feet of his own height, the thing _still_ managed to loom over him with a menacing presence that would've made any sane person turn tail and run.

As soon as he saw the spider he leaped off of Onyx's back and landed smoothly, ready to come to her aid. "GET BEHIND ME!" He roared, raising his hands and shooting bolts of nightmare sand in an effort to knock the creature out but all his efforts were in vain. The creature just kept lumbering forward, pinchers clicking like the tolling of a death bell. The girl, who had been racing like a bullet towards him, dove for cover and remained behind him, whimpering and sobbing.

"Don't worry," he told her, trying to sound reassuring as the spider galumphed towards him, each thundering step making the ground beneath them quake. "I'm here, you're safe. Just let me kill this thing and I'll get you back to safety."

Despite her terrified state, she made a grunting noise that suspiciously sounded to him like a snort.

"Well, who asked you!" He grumbled, wheeling around to face the onslaught. "Maybe this'll teach you to stay put!"

By all accounts, the fight was one that he would remember for a long, long time. It had been better than the last spider he had fought- even though that one had nearly killed him. This one hadn't been quite as smart or as fast as the first, leaving itself open to attacks and giving him plenty of opportunity to strike powerful blows. The problem was, the thing was durable. It was a ten thousand pound behemoth of webbing and fury, and it did not take well to being annoyed.

Pitch tried to use his sand on the thing, but he might just as well have been trying to turn moonlight into mushrooms for all the good it did. The creature just kept on coming, no matter how many gashes his weapon created the damn thing just would not go down!

Finally, he realized that he couldn't fight this thing alone and told Onyx to go get the others. _This level is going to be sealed up tighter than a drum after I finish here,_ he told himself firmly as he parried a languid strike the spider dealt with one of hits front legs. _No more testicle-eating spiders in __**my**__ caves, that's for sure!_

Not that he knew for sure this was the aforementioned spider. For all he knew, that whole thing had been a joke on Tooth's part. Though really, she didn't seem like the type to make those kinds of jokes.

It took Onyx what felt like ages to round up all the Nightmares she could and bring them back down here, but when they did the horses encircled the giant spider, each of them positively itching for a fight. Most of them were scratching their front hooves against the ground in anticipation and as soon as they had it surrounded, Pitch's attention fell back onto the girl.

He dropped to his knees, hissing his hands on her shoulders and shaking her gently. "Girl, girl speak to me!" He shook her again, harder but it was no use. She had fainted. He sighed and gathered her up into his arms. She was back in the first guise he had seen her on, only she looked much more beat up and tired. Her hair was a nest of spider's webbing and dirt, so much so that he couldn't tell what color her hair was and enough cuts on her face feet to make him think she had been running through a glass hedge.

After staring down at her face for a minute, watching for any sign of fear but finding none, he turned back to the Nightmares and the spider which was trying to break through the ring of sand but failed with each attempt. The Nightmares rebuffed it back each time, raising their hooves and slamming them down onto the ground as a warning not to come any closer. "Onyx!"

Onyx looked up expectantly.

"You know what to do." He told her, nodding curtly. "When it's done, set four guards here and come find me so that I can seal the tunnel."

Onyx bared her teeth and even though her eyes were nothing but soulless pits of flaming golden light, there was a glint in them that conveyed nothing less than pure, sadistic glee. _My pleasure Pitch._ She said, nodding her head before unleashing a furious war cry that echoed throughout the cavern and charging the spider. Her fellows did the same and soon a giant loud of black sand erupted from the center of the room as the over fifty furious demonic horses attacked the spider with everything they had. Even if spiders wouldn't scream, this one let out a shrill hiss like steam coming out of a kettle as wave upon wave of nightmare sand cascaded over it, enveloping it like a tidal-wave.

Pitch turned his back, knowing what came next. The horses would go inside the creature and probe its deepest thoughts and find all its fears. Even a giant spider had fears, after all. Then they would latch into the fear and contort it, turning it into a living thing that would slowly eat away at the spider from the inside. It wasn't a pretty sight, and he had no interest in seeing it again.

So, he took her back to her room and tucked her in. Then he gave her a small dose of dreamsand to chase the darkness of what she had seen away. _With any luck_, he thought, watching her face twitch as her nightmares were re-imagined into dreams. _She'll just wake up and think it was all a bad dream._

Wishful thinking.

He sat there for hours upon hours, just watching her, still as a statue, waiting for a single sign of life other than her slow breathing. After the first two hours, he got bored and started going over what he would say to Tooth in the event that she found out about the girl. It would have to be very flattering, and _very _carefully worded.

_I can't just out and out __**tell**__ her that I have a spirit chained up in my home, she'll think I'm off the deep end!_ He argued with himself petulantly. _But, if I do tell her and do it in a tactful way-_

_Oh sure, _he rolled his eyes._ Like there's a tactful way to say that I've got another spirit chained up in my caves._

"What if I just told her the truth?" He wondered aloud, staring at his fingernails thoughtfully. "Straight-forward, no beating around the bush? Would she believe me?" Maybe. Probably not though.

_But with the girl as evidence…_

_EVIDENCE?!_ His mind screamed at him. He winced. _Evidence?! She's a spirit, not a blood spatter!_

_I know,_ he argued. _I know. I'm just saying that with her here Tooth would be more inclined to believe me!_

He sighed. "Sometimes I think I still have another soldier inside my head, telling me all this crap." He muttered, glancing back at the sleeping girl. He hadn't noticed it before but, looking at her like this- all calm and peaceful, underneath all the muck and grime she was actually quite pretty. He reached forward to move a strand of muck-soaked hair away from her face. As soon as his fingertip made contact with her skin her eyes popped open. She let out a shrill scream that sounded somewhat like "Spiders!" and before Pitch even knew what she was doing, she was latching onto him like a lifeline, her hands around his torso and her face buried in his collar-bone.

Pitch sat there, frozen for a moment, wondering what he should do. Every paternal instinct brought on by his association with Seraphina and Jack that he possessed screamed at him to hold her close and comfort her, but somehow he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

_Just do it!_ His mind raged at him. _Come on, show her you are a good man! Prove it by comforting her, being kind to her! She's just a kid for Moon's sake Pitch!_

_I… I…_Pitch mentally stammered, the shock of the situation making it very hard for him to speak.

Thankfully, the pressure to make his choice was soon taken out of the equation altogether when, evidently realizing her position, she lurched backwards and fell on her behind which shook the bed. She had thrown her hands out behind her to break her fall, and once she found her footing she scurried backwards like a frightened puppy.

Pitch's whole demeanor instantly changed. "Please, I'm not going to hurt you," he told her gently, leaning forward to reach out his hand to try and calm her down but she took a swipe at him and he pulled back. "Listen to me, there's no shame in being afraid." He spoke softly, so as not to startle her any more than she already was. Maybe this time she would finally speak to him, not just in fragmented words but in _real_ sentences! "Especially of a giant spider." He accompanied this with what he hoped was a supportive smile and he thought he saw a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, as if she was wondering whether to trust him or not. Then the glimmer vanished and she snarled, baring her teeth.

"Go away!" She snarled.

Pitch shook his head. "No."

She tried to turn her back on him but the chains prevented her from turning more than forty degrees. She growled and tugged at her chains. "Let me go dammit!" She yelled, yanking furiously at the chains. Then she yelped and her left hand flew to her right wrist as if it had been burned.

Pitch moved forward on the bed, concern flaring up. "Are you alright?" He asked, eying her wrist.

She snarled and pulled away. "Fine! Go away!"

But he could see form the way she favored the arm that something was definitely wrong. Using his lightning-quick reflexes, his hand shot across the bed and his spidery fingers closed around her skinny arm just above the wrist. She started to balk and thrash, desperately trying to pull away but he simply grabbed her by the shoulder and said firmly, "I am not trying to hurt you. Now let me look at it."

In spite of his warning the girl continued trying to struggle, but after only a few minutes of fruitlessly trying to wiggle her arm free she gave up with a disgusted sigh and held out the arm sulkily. He nodded.

"Good, that's better." He unlocked the cuff that bound her and it dropped to the bed with a dull thunk, revealing thin wrist that had been rubbed raw by the constant chafing of the cuffs. There were bruises too, and angry-looking welts that were full of liquid bubbling up from beneath her skin like suds. He gasped. "Oh my gods, why didn't you tell me about this?!" He demanded, glaring at her.

She quickly ducked her head, letting her hair fall in a curtain to cover her expression, but not quick enough. Pitch saw a glint of scarlet and frowned. _Is she…blushing? _He leaned in and gently moved her hair back from her cheeks. Yes, she was definitely blushing.

"Why are you blushing?" He asked, puzzled.

He felt her wrist tense and glanced down to see her fists had clenched. Then he realized. She wasn't blushing because she was embarrassed, she was blushing angrily out of shame.

He sighed and put his large hand over the one he held. "Listen to me girl," he lifted his other hand to her chin and raised it up until he was looking her straight in the eye. "There is _nothing_ for you to be ashamed about. Nothing. Do you understand me? Not the spider, not the cuffs, not your fear. _Especially_ not your fear."

She gave a disbelieving snort and some of her hair rippled in the air.

He smiled kindly. "I lived in fear for quite a long time, little one. Fear of life, fear of death, fear of myself. But I was able to over-come that fear- with the aid of family and friends." He added. "And I'm sure that, given time, you'll find a way to beat your own fears. Everybody does."

She didn't move or make a sound.

He nodded. "There, now that I've said my piece on that," he raised her wrist to eye-level. "I think we had better take care of these, don't you?"

The girl rolled her eyes.

Pitch matched the eye-roll and topped it off with a smile. "Spirits can't die of old age you know, but we can be killed in battle by wounds or, in this case, infection. And believe me, you really _don't_ want to get this infected."

She raised an eyebrow as if to ask, _so, what are you going to do about it?_

He thought for a minute. Those welts would have to be purged sooner or later, and when they were she would be in a lot of pain. That was one thing he didn't want. "Would you let me put you to sleep?" He asked her, trying not to make it sound that bad. She gave him an incredulous look. "It wouldn't be _permanent_," he told her crossly, annoyed that she would even think such a thing. "Just long enough for me to purge the welts and bandage them." She shook her head firmly. He tried appealing to her sense of logic. "It's just that I don't want you in pain and that would be the best way-" he broke off. She was shaking her head.

"No." She said firmly. "No. You do it, you do it now. With me awake."

Pitch blinked. It was the longest sentence he had ever heard her say to him. "A-alright." He stammered, slightly unnerved by her willingness. "But I should warn you, without being knocked out it's going to hurt. A lot."

She grimaced, then nodded firmly. "Just do it."

He sighed a little sheepishly. "Well, I can't actually do it yet. I need to go get something to help with the pain, but I'll be back as soon as I can be, alright?"

She nodded jerkily, as if it hurt her to move.

He looked guiltily at the welts, then up at her face which was twisted in repressed agony. He couldn't imagine the agony she was feeling right now. Bruises, broken bones, concussions- not to mention the emotional trauma, and now she would have to deal with him slicing open her wrist and letting puss drain.

OK, so maybe he did understand _exactly_ how she was feeling. But that didn't make him feel any less rotten for causing it. All of the injuries she had sustained in the few weeks she had been here, all the pain and suffering she had gone through, was his fault. And he could not make that up. Still…he figured he might as well try.

Pitch reached forward and took her hand in his. "Please believe me when I say that I am _so sorry_ for what you are going through. Truly I am. I never meant for you to get hurt and I hope that, someday, you can forgive me." Then he let go of her hand and stood, heading for the door. "I trust I can count on you to stay put until I get back?" He called over his shoulder and he swore he heard her say, _trust is for fools. _"Well, in any case, Onyx will be right outside this door the entire time until I get back."

He reached the door and turned back, just in time to see her curse and flop back onto her bed.

"Now now," he chastised. "If you burst those welts before I get back you're going to be in a lot more pain than you would've been if you had waited."

But she wasn't listening. She had closed her eyes, and the slow rising and falling of her chest told him that she was trying to go back to sleep.

He nodded. Good. That might keep her out of trouble until he got back. He turned around and vanished, not through the door, but through the shadows that surrounded it and reappeared almost instantly in one of North's guest rooms at the North Pole. This one, by contrast to the ones he normally showed up in, didn't appear to be used at all. And that was good. Pitch had meant to appear in the closest room to the infirmary, which would logically be the least-used room. That way he could get in, grab the salve that Baby Tooth had brought to Tooth what felt like years ago, that day when he had been wounded by the spider, and get out without anyone ever noticing him.

That was the plan anyway. And, for the first few minutes at least, it was working perfectly. He managed to sneak from the room into the infirmary, grab the salve which was thankfully labeled, and sneak out, all without being detected.

And then the fairy showed up.

Pitch was only a few feet away from the nearest shadow, trying to blend in with the stony walls and clutching the salve in his robe pocket like a precious gem. He was so focused on keeping himself undetected and unseen that he didn't even notice his pint-sized stalker until she piped up behind him.

_You know, if you wanted some of North's cookies, I'm sure he would just give them to you._

Pitch jumped about a foot in the air and his sand-scythe immediately materialized in his free hand with the menacing ring of a sword being drawn from its' sheath. Only then did he recognize the voice and realize who it was. "Baby Tooth!"

_That's my name, don't wear it out._ The tiny shimmering fairy replied, grinning and flying forward to give him a gentle kiss on the nose. _What's up Pitch? I haven't seen you in weeks!_

Pitch sighed. "I've been busy." He said, using the conversation to distract her and slipping the salve back inside his robe where it would be safe. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out with your sisters, gathering chompers and dealing out coins?" Ok, he had to admit, he hadn't meant to be that snappish with her. He was just worried about the girl, that was all. And he needed to get this back to her soon. It would be easier to just apologize and throw off suspicion. "I'm sorry Baby Tooth," he told her, smiling apologetically. "I didn't mean that."

She shrugged it off. Fairies were surprisingly unflappable creatures. _It's all good. And yeah, I really should be out there with them but Mom gave me a few days off for rest cause I've been putting in so much overtime. I was looking around here, hoping to find Jack._

Pitch nodded. Seemed reasonable. "Did you try the lake?"

She nodded, pouting. _Yeah. And I almost got eaten by a dog too!_

Pitch tried to fake sympathy, but in reality he was getting more and more agitated by the minute. If one of the yetis saw him standing here, he would surely report it to North. And that was the last thing he wanted! "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that sweetie," he told her, managing to grimace out a respectable smile. "But I really have to be going. Onyx and the others should be getting home any time and they get antsy when I'm not around. The last time I spent longer than a few hours away from home at a time I came home and the caves were ruined."

She nodded knowingly. _Oh yes, the same thing happened to me when I was on a long-distance mission in Antarctica. An eskimo baby lost her first tooth, mom was away at the annual fae meeting and when I got back, the Palace was in utter shambles! Nothing was organized, nothing was clean and everything was just generally a cyclone of disorder. Sufficed to say, I spent a long time trying to sort __**that **__out._

Pitch nodded and turned to go, but before he could make it more than a few steps before a certain curious ball of feathers flew up in front of his face and stopped him. _Hey, you seem kinds tense Pitch. _She said peering at his eyes closely. _What's up? Jack winding you up again?_

Pitch shook his head. "No Baby Tooth, I'm just a little tired. And I would like to get home now so if you don't mind," he made to walk around her but yet again she blocked his path.

_No, _she said firmly. _It's not that._

"I'm afraid that's exactly what it is." Pitch replied and, before Baby Tooth could object again, he dove for the nearest shadow and was immediately enveloped in shrouds of darkness, leaving a tiny Tooth Fairy frowning in bewilderment at his strange behavior.

I'd better get back to the Pole and tell mom about this, she muttered to herself, eying the shadow suspiciously before turning around and buzzing away, back to Pujam Hi Loo.

Back with Pitch, the void of the shadow-plane hit him like a breath of cold air in the face before fading away into the cool, musky air of his caves. He tumbled out of the shadow outside the girl's room, stumbled a bit, then righted himself and took a look around. Yep, he was home alright. And thankfully it appeared that the pint-sized little investigator fairy hadn't tried to follow him.

_Smart move on her part. The demons in the shadow-realm would've gobbled up her essence for a light snack. _He thought as he dusted himself off. While doing so, his hand brushed the inside pocket of his robe. It felt strangely empty. _H_e instantly tensed up, his hand shooting inside the pocket where the salve lay in wait. _Good, _he thought with a sigh of relief, taking out the little jar and holding it up to inspect. _I didn't lose it in transit. _That had happened before.

The jar itself was made of plain, clear glass. But the gunk inside was an off-putting greenish color that certainly _looked_ like medicine. He grimaced, knowing the pain he was about to inflict on the poor girl. Then his grimace faded, replaced by a determined scowl. But he would do it, for her sake. Because if the wound continued to fester it would just cause her more pain.

Steeling himself, he opened the door to the room. Onyx was inside- _odd,_ he thought, stepping through the threshold and frowning. _I thought I asked her to stay outside._ "How's our girl doing Onyx?" He asked, walking over to the Nightmare.

Onyx spun around, starting to rise up onto her back hooves in an attack position but when she recognized her masters' voice she lowered her powerful hooves and her lips parted in a smile. _She's doing well. I can't sense a single vestige of fear from her, and since you left she's been resting peacefully._

Pitch nodded, sensing the proverbial_ but _ was not disappointed.

_But, _the horse continued. _I can tell that she's in pain. And not all of it physical. _She swung her head to look at the girl who hadn't twitched a muscle. _There's a lot of anguish there Pitch, a lot of grief. And I wouldn't be surprised if she stays clammed up like she is for the rest of her life. _

Pitch nodded ruefully, remembering the flash of memory he had seen when he had tried to penetrate her nightmare. So much pain, so much hurt.

Onyx appeared to guess his thoughts from the expression on his face because after a long moment she asked curiously, _Just what did you see in there?_

The Boogeyman shook his head. "That's her business to tell, not mine." He said shortly, turning away from the horse and walking over to the bed. "If you would be so good as to wait outside, Onyx. I'll be done in less than an hour."

She frowned. _What are you going to do?_

"Play doctor." He replied and it might've been Onyx's ears playing tricks on her, but she was pretty sure she heard a little bit of regret in his voice. Then again, it might've just been her.

XXXXXX

As soon as I heard the horse's by now familiar clip-clopping footsteps retreating and the door slamming shut behind her, I cracked open one eye. Great. Now it was just me and him again. The last thing I had been looking forward to.

I had quite honestly been enjoying my brief hour-reprieve of peace. It had given me a little bit of time to think on the recent changes in my situation. True, there weren't that many, but the ones that were were of the utmost importance.

_Damn spiders when I get ahold of them I'm gonna whallop them into a pulp! _I mentally grumbled, pounding my fist against my curled hand beneath the blankets where I was huddled, trying to regain some of my body-heat that had been lost while I had been running from that disgusting spider.

I tried rubbing my arms to warm them, but only suceeded in tearing off a fraction of my shirt sleeve. That wasn't the only thing I had lost apparently. I glared at the shred of fabric, though honestly it wasn't that big deal. It had only been hanging on by a thread anyway. As were the rest of my clothes.

Now, mind you I hadn't been dressing very snappily when I had first gotten dragged down here, but after two long weeks of failed escape attempts, battles with Nightmares, Boogeymen and giant spiders alike, plus regular wear and tear, my clothes were in about the same shape as the rags of the girl I had transformed into on accident a few days ago. It was a miricle they still covered me completely.

I heard a creak and footsteps, suddenly remembering the other presence in the room just in time to hear him crossing the floor. I pretended to still be asleep, slowing my heartbeat down until I could barely feel it fluttering in my chest. He came to sit beside me on the bed, staring at me for a few seconds before he spoke. "How long have you been awake?" His voice was low and concerned and I instantly felt revulsion coursing through me. I hated it when he spoke to me like he cared about my well-being. Even when it seemed like he did, but I knew he didn't.

I rolled my eyes and sat up, my body creaking like an old woman's from being in the chains for so long. _Damn_. What was this guy anyway, some kind of sleep police?

He moved back a little to give me some space but I over-looked the gesture. I folded my arms over my chest and remained silent.

He sighed. "You should have been resting," he told me, reaching inside his robe with one hand as he spoke. "You need your strength."

I smirked. Truer words never spoken._ Now if only I can gather enough strangth to get the hell out of here. Then all our problems will be solved and we can both rest easy._

He pulled out a small jar of greenish goop that I guessed must be for the pain. I squinted at it. It looked like the spinach smoothies Cupcake's mom was forever trying to get her to drink. Eew.

He noticed the disgusted look on my face and smirked. "Well, the good news is you won't have to drink this," he told me with a small chuckle. "It's a salve, made by the yetis at the North Pole. It should help with the pain once I've drained the welts."

I rolled my eyes skyward. _The North Pole? Yetis? _I was beginning to think my initial assumption of the guy had been right. He was a whacko.

He set the salve down on the bed beside me and crossed the room to the small cabinet that I had rummaged through already. He opened it and pulled out a spare sheet, ripping it with his surprisingly sharp teeth into long strips that I assumed were for bandages and all the while, he kept on talking to me.

"Normally I would use regular bandages," he said as yet another sheet was sliced into strips. When he was finished, he began to gather up the long pieces of cloth and walked over to me. "Goodness knows I have a massive supply from my past, but I thought it would be best to hurry before they get any more infected. I already spent far too much time at the Pole, and I tried to get back here as fast as I could but I was accosted by one of Tooth's daughters. I'm sorry about taking so long. Incidentally, do you know when they started to appear?"

I sighed and blotted out his senseless prattle with static noise until I heard his ask a question. I shrugged.

He set the bandages down on the bed and gave me a look.

I shrugged again. _Hey, what do you want from me?_ I wasn't in a talkative mood at the moment. And even if I was, I wasn't in the mood to talk to him.

He sighed and pulled a long, thin knife from nowhere whatsoever! I gulped as I stared at the blade which was black and wicked-sharp. That thing could slit my throat without me even feeling it! He set it down too, gingerly on the bed with the handle pointing towards him. "Well, if you don't know then can you at least tell me how long you've been in pain?"

I shook my head. Only because I didn't know.

The man rolled his eyes and muttered, "I think Nightlight was more talkative when he was in the cage." Before taking my unchained wrist and raising the knife. "I'm just going to slit these open a little. To drain them. It won't be pleasant, but you'll thank me when I'm done."

I gritted my teeth. _Funny how you say that so easily when you aren't the one whose blisters are getting sliced open with a razor! _

He noticed my look and asked concernedly, "Are you sure you wouldn't like to be put to sleep? It would definitely help with the pain."

I shook my head firmly. _No way. _If he wanted to do this to me, he would do it while I was awake. I wasn't taking any chances. Besides, it couldn't be any worse than the glass in my foot, could it? That had been agonizing enough.

He nodded, looking somewhat disappointed. "Alright. Brace yourself my dear."

I only had enough time to growl, "I'm not your-" before he lifted the knife and made the first incision.

The sound that came out of my mouth could have terrified a grizzly bear into hiding. A primordial mix of animalistic howls of agony, mixed with the human screams of someone being burned alive. It was a hideous, beautiful sound that echoed throughout the entire cave system and must've woken up every human within a two hundred-foot-radius. Pitch flinched back but kept a firm grip on my arm, even though I was screaming and bellowing like a stuck pig as the puss slowly oozed out of my wrist. There was _so much pain_ that I couldn't think straight and I tried to get away from it, lurching forward but he had too strong ahold of me and I only succeeded in falling over onto the bed.

He hauled me up and shook me gently. "Girl, listen to me! It's alright, we only have a few more to go. OK? OK? I understand it must hurt but it'll all be over soon."

Unbidden tears were falling from my eyes as the agony increased and through my watery gaze I could see that he was pretty close to tears as well. I nodded shakily, my screams silent. For now. "D-do it," I murmured.

He nodded and, before I should even whimper, he had made the cuts and the puss started collecting and dripping down my arm, staining the comforter a dingy greyish-white.

Suddenly the full force of the agony hit me and I screamed bloody murder, clutching at my wrist and trying to make the pain go away. This was worse, _much_ worse than the glass in my foot. _Why did I ever agree to this?_ I bemoaned, tears streaming down my cheeks and blurring my vision.

Pitch put a comforting hand on my back and said softly, "I know, I know it hurts my dear. Just let them drain and once they're clean, I can salve them and wrap them. Then you'll be done! OK? Just hold out a little longer, please?"

I tried to roll my eyes but they stung too much. Had he forgotten my other wrist? Evidently so. I shook my other wrist at him and he swore. "Damn, I'm sorry I forgot about your other wrist. But don't worry, we'll soon get that fixed too. Then you can rest for real, alright?" As he spoke he reached for the salve. Evidently my welts were empty because he dipped and finger in and started spreading the mucky gunk all over my wrist. I winced.

"Ow!"

"I'm sorry," he apologized, over and over again. "I'm sorry, I'm almost done!"

I almost laughed. He sounded so much like Cupcake had that one night.

Suddenly, my thoughts turned back to the little brown-haired writer. I wondered where she was now. Home, in bed? At school? Playing out in the snow of a cold January morning? I had completely lost track of the days while I had been down here, and I hadn't the faintest idea how long I had been gone. Probably only about a week or so. But still, she would probably be worried about me.

I was so busy thinking about cupcake that I hardly noticed he had wrapped my wrist up in thick, black cloth and was already starting to work on the other one. He had already made one incision.

"Good," he murmured, carefully making the cut against the welt. "This is good. Whatever you're doing, keep doing it until we're done."

I nodded sleepily, too deep in my own thoughts to really hear him. I was still wondering about Cupcake.

_Damn, _I thought, staring off into the inky-black expanse of rock opposite with me._ I hope she's not worrying about me. _Though she probably would be, knowing her. Cupcake was such a caring little girl. So kind, so compassionate. Sure, she wasn't the most _normal_ little girl out there, but hey, who likes normal anyway?

"Almost done," Pitch murmured, spreading more of the salve over my open welts before bandaging them expertly and finally letting my hand drop into my lap. "There!"

I winced, pulling out of my thoughts to give him a glare and rubbing my wrist which was throbbing from the cuts in a vain attempt to dull the pain.

He grinned apologetically. "Sorry. But look on the upside, you're done!"

I rolled my eyes, raising a hand to wipe them with the back of my arm. "You are annoyingly cheerful." I told him spitefully which, annoyingly enough seemed to make him more cheerful.

He smiled. "And you're beginning to sound like your old self again." I harrumphed and he chuckled. "You really don't like to smile much, do you my dear?" He asked, an irritating smirk playing around his grey lips.

I bared my sharp teeth and spat, "I am _not_ your dear."

I knew it wouldn't scare him like I had the first time, but maybe it would be enough to tell him that I wasn't in the mood for social niceties. But, instead of getting the message he merely chuckled again. "Uptight little thing, aren't you?" He said, looking me up and down like I was a particularly odd-shaped fruit.

I hissed and turned away but he simply walked around the bed to face me again. "You remind me a lot of myself as a young spirit," he murmured, more to me than himself as his eclipse eyes watched me. "Defensive, skittish. Terrified of everything-"

I exploded around to face him, anger flaring up inside me. "I AM NOT-"

"But covering your fear with anger. And in denial as well." He continued smoothly before pausing and giving me those utterly infuriating pitiful eyes. "Yes, you remind me quite a lot of myself."

That was it. I had had enough. Instead of turning away or closing my eyes, I threw back the comforter that I was sitting on, dove underneath it and flopped down on my side, covering my head with the blanket. The horse had said he was the Boogeyman, right? What better way to ward off the guardian of closets and under the bed than hiding under the covers?

Silence…for a long moment. Then I grimaced as I heard his severely unimpressed voice. "You know the puss is still on those, right? And if so that's rather disgusting."

The blankets were off me faster than a fly off a frog's nose. They were flung across the room and landed in a heap on the ground. Meanwhile I was rubbing my arms and shivering. Eeeew!

I heard him chuckling and spun around to face him, glaring murderously. Did I have even a _fraction _of dignity left?!

Evidently not.

He smirked. "Don't worry, I've been on the receiving end of plenty of Irony's pranks in my time. Kind of one of an occupational hazard that comes from being so close to the void. But you'll get used to it." He gave my shoulder a gentle pat and I recoiled. He sighed and leaned back, folding his hands into his lap and regarding me thoughtfully. We stayed like that for a long time, watching each other with blank, unwavering stared until finally, he spoke.

"Why do you keep trying to escape?" He asked me, probably trying to understand the method behind the madness. "I'm only trying to help you."

I held his gaze for a long moment before finally dropping my gaze. My thoughts were still conflicted on the matter. In fact, I wasn't even sure what to believe any more. As much as I wanted to kid myself, it hadn't been his fault that I had been almost murdered by a giant spider, even though he had been the one who had brought me here.

Before I could get any further on the matter however, I heard a slightly depressed sigh and he started speaking again.

"You might think you don't need help to figure all this out," he was saying in the time-honored tone of an old person giving a young person advice and made me want to give him a miracle ear and a cane. "But you do. Every single spirit has needed someone who knows how to survive in this world, and those that don't…" He paused, looking back up at me. "Well, it takes them a long time to learn the difference between right and wrong. I spent well over five thousand years being controlled and manipulated by the demons that made me a spirit. I didn't have anyone but them, whispering in my ears every night. They owned me, as if I were a book or a piece of clothing to be used and discarded as they saw fit. I don't want that for you! Spirits like us have a responsibility to the world, and though I don't quite know what yours is yet, I know that mine is to protect children-"

I had to stop this, before I died of boredom. So, gathering my courage and putting on my best dead-pan mask I said, in the most monotonous voice I could, "Stop the monologing already, you sound like John Stewart."

He stopped in mid-sentence, staring at me like I had just grown a second head. I rolled my eyes turning away and curling up like a baby. I was cold, and I was in pain. Right now, I didn't want a lecture. I just wanted to go to sleep and forget about all of this until tomorrow, when I wouldn't hurt- as much, and hopefully things would be clearer.

I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the throbbing in my wrist as I tucked it under my head because in my sluggish state I had forgotten about the pillows just inches behind my head.

"Going to sleep for real this time?"

I mumbled something unintelligible.

"Good girl." I heard a creak and felt his weight on the bed lessen, then heard some footsteps.

_Great, _I thought, smiling to myself as I burrowed deeper into my lack of blankets. _He's finally getting the message and leaving me alone! _

Then I felt the thick, heavy blanket falling over my and my good mood instantly evaporated. _Damn you Boogey-dude. _I thought ruefully. _I'm supposed to hate you for kidnapping me dammit! _And yet...I found that I couldn't hate him. Not after he had rescued me from the spider. And, after the cuffs and now this, I just...couldn't bring myself to hate him any more.

So I settled for minor dislike.

"Night." I grumbled, by all appearances remaining my normal grouchy self but I had a feeling he knew how much his kindness had impacted me.

I felt something tugging on the blankets slightly- I assumed he was straightening them out, then he tucked them in around me like a caring parent. "Goodnight my dear. I'll try to get some more dreamsand so that you can have pleasant dreams."

I was about to grumble that I was not _his dear _yet again, then I felt a hand on my exposed hand peeping out from underneath the blanket and I looked up, straight into his wide, eclipse eyes and his bright teeth, bared in a gentle smile.

"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes never wavering from mine. I was sure I looked like a deer in the headlights, but I couldn't do anything about it.

"For what?" I breathed.

His smile widened by a molar or two. "For letting me in." He lingered there for a few more seconds, then he nodded once and left. And I was left alone in the dark, cold room once again.

I sighed again, suddenly feeling infinitely tired. I closed my eyes once again and tried to let the sweet sweet warmth of the blankets lull me to sleep. I tried to shut my mind off but, against my wishes, my thoughts kept drifting back to him. Should I have let him in more? Was I going soft? Should I listen to him, or should I ignore him and focus on getting the hell out of here? I cracked open my eyes one more time, intending to look at the door and hoping that it would satisfy my restless mind. But, in the process of sitting up I happened to glance at my hand and almost screamed out loud.

My entire hand...had turned grey.

Now, normally when the color of a person's skin changed without any logical cause, said person freaks out. Thankfully for my sake, normal is never an adjective that can be applied to me. And, instead of screaming and throwing a fit, I simply stared at the hand curiously, turning it back and forth and wiggling my fingers, testing their limits. It was my hand, alright. It was just...grey. And as time passed, I noticed the grey tinge starting to fade. It krept down from my wrist and into my fingertips like paint dripping off a canvas until my hand was completely back to its normal creamy coloring, with a little bit of blue bruising around the palm.

It took a moment for it to sink in, but when it did, it was a good thing that Pitch had said he would get me the good dream sand, because I'm sure the smile on my face as I drifted off the sleep would have terrified any Sandman stupid enough to visit me. I had a new escape attempt in mind. And this one would certainly be a show.

It would also be my last.

XXXXXXX

Pitch closed the door, breathing a sigh of relief. Tears of empathetic pain that he had been holding back since the first incision threatened to spill over from his lids, but he blinked them back and sighed. _And I thought the first talk with her was good! _He thought, a small smile creeping across his face. This one had been even better! She was talking to him- well, mostly insulting him, but he figured she had a pretty good right to, and better yet, he felt they were building some sort of trust between them. She certainly wouldn't have let him do any of that just a week ago.

Onyx noticed his strange expression and asked tentatively, _Pitch? Are you alright? _

Pitch nodded. "Yes Onyx, I'm fine." He turned around and faced the black horse. "Let her sleep as long as she wants. When she wakes up, wait with her until I come back. Try to ease her pain, as much as you can until I get back."

Onyx cocked her head to the side curiously. _And how to you propose I do that? _She asked blandly. _Sing her a lullaby? _

He shrugged. "If you have to. Just ty to strengthen the message that we care about her well-being and want to keep her safe. Because we do." He gave Onyx a firm look.

Onyx nodded. _Hey, you'll get no argument from me. I'm actually starting to like the kid. She's got fire. And spirit._

Pitch raised an eyebrow. "Was that your attempt at a pun?" He asked, slightly amused.

She shook her head and that movement set her mane waving. _Nope. Just the honest truth. _

He sighed and rolled his eyes, reaching up to pat her neck. "Just make sure she stays safe until I come back you annoyingly perceptive equine. Or else I'll turn you into an hour-glass."

Said annoyingly perceptive equine nodded and nuzzled his hand. _Alright alright, but you know once she's healed she's gonna try to escape again at the first opportunity she gets, right?_

Suddenly, one of the most unsettling smiles that ever graced a humanoid's lips sidled onto Pitch's face. It was a small smile, but it wasn't angry or sneaky or plotting. And that was what made it so terrifying. "Already one step ahead of you Onyx." He told her, grinning and sending slight shivers up and down her spine. "I know she's going to try to escape again. In fact, I'm counting on it."

The Nightmare frowned, but she didn't understand what he meant until later that week.


	9. Illumination, Adaptation & Preparation

**Hey everybody, It's me again! Yes I'm back with the next chapter. Thanks so much to my best friends Star, Fanty and Xion5 for making this crazy wonderful story exist and thank you to my wonderful readers who've stuck with this for so long. Believe me, the action is just starting to heat up. The next chapter is where the real craziness starts. But, for now, I hope this makes up for it.  
**

**Also, to the wonderful reviewers:**

**Star: YAY YOU FIXED IT! I hope you like this chapter. It reveals quite a bit about the upcoming plot twists. **

**Black3st-Night: hehe, yes there will be a return of the testicle-eating spiders. But not for a while. And forshadowing's my favorite pastime. And yeah, I seem to be able to crank these out quite quickly, considering how much I do during the week. You can't rush creative progress. I've learned that. As for Tooth, I can't tell you much but it will be a couple months before that happens. Story-wise. **

**Assanee: Aww, thank you! Here's the next one for you!**

**FrostofSummer: You'll see. hehehe.**

* * *

Time is a funny thing. To some people, it seems to ebb and flow at a constant, never-changing rate. For others, time was as swift and elusive as the perfect relationship. But in the dark, dank caves where the Boogeyman and his new tenant resided, where not a single ray of sunlight or moonlight by which one could tell the time shone down from above and all was silence. There, time seemed to have all but stopped.

Of course, the outside world was a different story.

It was well after the night had retracted its black grip on the world and up above the sun was shining and the sky was a clear robin's egg blue. The air blew crisp and fine across the faces of children and adults scurrying about their daily lives, hinting at the coming of an early spring for Burgess. Tulips peeked their multi-colored bulbous heads out of the snowy, hard-packed ground and animals, both domestic and wild, skittered around in the snow like innocent souls, basking in the winter wonderland. But neither the Nightmare King nor his new roommate knew or cared about such things.

Pitch emerged from the shadow of a statue in the garden of the Sandman's Cloud Castle, tired and restless, but bound and determined to get what he came for.

_I promised her some dreamsand, _he told himself firmly as he passed beneath the enormous mermaid whose shadow he had used, only glancing up to admire the stonework for a brief second before he dismissed it and continued on his way. He made for the small entry-door at the far end of the garden and slipped through without barely disturbing the ever-present layer of dreamsand which coated practically everything in this place like dust. _I promised her, and the Boogeyman never breaks a promise._

He glanced around nervously. "I just hope Sanderson isn't home."

Pitch headed straight for the dreamsand vault, remembering the way not just from his visions, but from the numerous times he had broken in to steal sand for his experiments. It wasn't something he was proud of, and he honestly hoped that Sanderson never learned of it. He hadn't been at his finest then, and he prayed to Manny that none of his new family would ever learn just how much evil he had done in that time. He didn't know what would happen if they did, but he knew it wouldn't be good.

On the far side of the room were a flight of gold-painted wooden stairs leading downward. Pitch took them and began his slow, careful descent downward, trying to make as little noise possible.

"Just in case Sandy really is here and he's just hiding," he murmured, skipping the sixth step as he knew it squeaked.

With his long legs, Pitch made it to the vault on the lower level in relatively good time. The vault was the first door at the end of the stairs, right next to the lab and Starstuff depository. It was a simple manner to procure a small bag of dreamsand. He just nipped in, picked up a bag and ducked back out. The only thing was he had to be careful not to let a single speck fall on him.

Even with the Fearlings gone, it still hurt whenever he came into contact with it. Especially when Sandy hugged him or clapped him on the shoulder. He even took a small vial of Starstuff, just in case the dreamsand proved to be not strong enough for her night terrors. Not to mention his own.

Yes, Pitch still had his own bad dreams from time to time. They had frequented his mind in the nights following his eradication of the Fearlings from his system- residual darkness, he supposed. Left over from their being in his system for so long. But as the months had worn on they had become more and more seldom until finally, they had stopped altogether.

"But it never hurts to be prepared," he murmured, tucking the vial and pouch in separate pockets. The _last _thing he wanted was for them to mix and create an explosion that wrecked half of Sandy's home. Once he had stowed the sands safely away, he began to make his long ascent back to the upper level.

Normally after retrieving his prize he would just shadow-travel back to his home, but not in this place. Years and years of bad experiences had taught him that you _do not _use dark magic anywhere near this much light magic. It was somewhat like trying to use a magnet near an electronic. The interference would scramble his inner fear radar and he wouldn't be able to control which shadow he emerged from- if they let him out at all. Sometimes the shadows were punks and decided they wanted to keep him for a little while. And when that happened... well, let's put it this way: he didn't shadow-travel for a long time afterward. And not for his sake either.

So Pitch was forced to continue climbing the stairs like a regular person. Step after step he climbed and, half way there, he found himself thinking, _Aren't trips supposed to be shorter on the way back? _He chuckled. _Then again, I've never had much luck with 'supposed to be'._

Indeed. Just like Sandy was _supposed _to be somewhere else while he burgled the Cloud Castle.

Pitch stepped out onto the landing and, after taking the briefest of glances around to get his bearings, he made for the door. He was so focused on getting past the gate that he didn't notice the floating golden Guardian lingering in the shadows who stepped out just as Pitch reached the door.

_Pitch?_

Pitch nearly jumped out of his skin. He drew his scythe and pointed the tip straight at Sandy's throat. Seconds when by. Two...three...four. Then he realized who it was and he hastily lowered it. The scythe disappeared into black sand and he stood there, looking at his feet guiltily, wishing that the ground would swallow him up.

After a moment he finally managed to speak. "Hello Sandy."

He heard a jingling sound and assumed that Sandy was trying to talk to him. He didn't look up. But Sandy was a persistent fellow, not to mention he hated being ignored. So, in true spirit fashion he did what any other spirit would do when they were ignored. He stepped up until he was standing right in Pitch's field of vision, and hugged him.

Pitch froze as soon as he felt the tiny hands of his best friend curling around his torso. Sandy was looking up at him, his expression half-way between confusion and joy. He smiled and squeezed him gently.

_It's good to see you Pitch, _he wrote with his dreamsand, right in front of his face so that Pitch couldn't ignore it.

He gave the star a weak smile. "Good to see you too old friend." He said, tentatively hugging Sandy back.

The little Guardian took this to mean than he was alright and he released Pitch, smiling. _When I got the message from Tooth I didn't believe it but... now that I see you, _his grin stretched from ear to ear and he reached forward to pull Pitch into another hug. _I'm so proud of you Pitch. _He told him, emotions permeating his every written word._ I knew you would get over it eventually._

Pitch rolled his eyes. _Another person that makes it seem like I've been underground for the last_ _bloody decade. What the hell is going on?! _But he didn't ask. Instead he decided to just humor the walking talking sandbag and say, "Oh yes, I'm glad too." As vaguely as he could.

Sandy's beaming smile grew- if it was possible, even wider. _You should be. Not everyone can come back from something like that, and in only a year too. You should be __**very**__ proud of yourself! _

Pitch decided to change the subject. One day he would ask them all about this, but today wasn't that day. Today was the day he had to get out of here, with the dreamsand and with as little questions as possible from the Sandman. Not an easy feat, but he figured he had better give it a try.

"Well, Sandy it's been lovely talking with you but I'd better get going." He said, forcing out a smile as he quickly retreated towards the door, stammering out excuses all the way there. "Lots of important things to do before tonight. Just stopped by to say hello. I'll tell the others I saw you." He waved and turned around before Sandy could even respond. He was a few sprints away from the door and freedom. A few quick steps brought him to the threshold of the door and his hand was inches away from the doorknob, but as he went to turn it something stopped him.

Something had been needling him for the last few minutes. It was a trivial thing, but nevertheless he felt the urge to ask. It was a matter of professional pride after all. No one had ever been able to sneak up on him- barring Jack and a few of the other Guardians, of which Sandy was among them but normally he could see the golden Guardian coming a mile away because of his luminous skin. So why hadn't he?

He sighed. _I'm gonna regret this, _he thought as he turned around and asked, as innocently as he could, "Just out of curiosity, how did you know I was there?"

Sandy gave him a look that clearly said he thought he was an idiot. _Pitch, this place is entirely made out of dreamsand. It's basically an extension of myself. I can feel every single thing that happens here in this place, from a fly landing on the nose of a statue to an intruder breaking in. And then there's my security system. _He waved at the room vaguely and Pitch felt his eyebrows shoot up into his hair.

"Security system?!" He repeated incredulously while his eyes darted around the room, looking for cameras and lasers and other stuff associated with security systems. But he saw none.

Sandy nodded and snapped his fingers. A loud crack split the silence and before Pitch even had a second in which to react– and even if he did it would only be to jump or draw his scythe –there was a loud crash and the door swung open, slamming against the stone on either side of the door and in the gap, framed by golden light streaming through from the sun, were three of the eight giant golden figures that had stood in the garden beyond the door. A Chinese Dragon, a centaur and a werewolf.

Pitch felt his heart leap into his throat as he stared at the magnificent golden creatures that appeared to be straight out of a fairy tale. He had no idea the statues could move! They stood there, the wolf-man panting like he had just finished a hunt and the dragon curling and uncurling its claws on the golden-painted stone of the steps as if it were itching to sink them into some poor, unsuspecting victim. Only the centaur was even remotely non-threatening, standing there with its hooves lifting idly from time to time and his golden eyes fixed on the Sandman. In fact, they were _all _looking to the Sandman. Almost as if...

_Almost as if they were waiting for orders. _Pitch turned back to the Sandman who was floating there with his hands folded over his ample chest, a smug little grin on his face. "Sanderson...when did this...?" He gestured at the statures.

Sandy's smirk widened. _After Jack tried to break into the Pole the first few times, _he explained, floating slowly over to the statues and beaming at them. _North sent out a message to us Guardians to be on the lookout for burglars and thieves. Since I'm never at home I got a little paranoid and thought I would be next. But, once he became a Guardian, my group of protectors became pretty much useless and I turned them back into statues. But they still come alive when I need them, and can revert back to stone almost instantly. _

To illustrate, he snapped his fingers and the statues immediately left. Pitch presumed they returned to their stands in the garden because he heard much scraping and grating of sand.

Pitch nodded approvingly. "Very impressive Sandman. But I think you might've been a little more than paranoid." He raised his hands and motioned to the room around them. "This is a castle floating in the sky, surrounded by dreamsand. I highly doubt anyone would be stupid enough to rob it."

Sandy shrugged. _You'd be surprised. Some people really want my starstuff. It's a rare enough substance to not be found anywhere else in the cosmos, aside from on the Moon, and its healing properties aside that stuff is strong enough to raise one of the old spirits back into being. There's a lot of evil spirits out there that would just love to get their hands on it. Speaking of which, _he paused to sniff the air around Pitch. _Why do you have a vial with you?_

Pitch didn't even bother to hide his astonishment as he gaped at the little dream-crafter. "How- how did you know?!" He stammered, his hand flying to his pocket where the vial rested and he could've sworn he felt the thing pulsating against his leg.

Sandy gave him the look again, raising his own sandy eyebrows. _Are you serious?_ He asked, sniffing the air again. _I mined that stuff for over ten years back in the Golden Age, before Kozmotis convinced me to enlist. I know what starstuff smells like._

Pitch winced at his stupidity. Oh, right. He'd forgotten about that. Knowing that he was caught he guiltily reached into his pocket and brought out the vial. "Here." He said, holding it out to Sandy but the Dream-maker only frowned.

_Pitch, if you wanted to use some of my starstuff, _he said, shaking his head at the proffered vial. _You could've just asked me. I would've gladly given it to you! _He paused, looking back up at his face. _But, in light of this I have to ask, why did you try to steal it? Are you having trouble sleeping again? _He peered anxiously at the Boogeyman._ Are the Nightmares acting up?_

Pitch went to shake his head, then thought better of it. Poor sleeping and unruly help might just be the simplest and easiest lie to tell to get Sandy off his back about this. So, steeling himself, he nodded and feigned tiredness by wiping his hand across his forehead. "You have no idea. It's been a madhouse down there. I can't sleep worth shit and ever since I returned from my sabbatical," he paused, hoping that he had used the right word to describe the absence he had apparently taken and hadn't aroused any suspicion. If he did, he didn't give any visual indication. "The Nightmares have been itching to get back out into the world and hurt something. It's taking all that I have to keep the under control."

He had thought that, after his sad sob-story the Sandman would simply nod in sympathy and tell him to take as much as he wanted. But that wasn't the case. In fact, Sandy completely blew away all of his expectations by folding his arms over his chest, glowering and replying haughtily, _Well, you deserve it!_

Pitch blinked. "Excuse me?"

Sandy tapped his foot against the air like it was the floor. _Don't be stupid. You __**knew**__ there would be consequences_ _afterward when you sank into that dark pit of groveling and self-pity. I told you that, a thousand times! Over and over again, and yet it __**still**__ didn't sink in! So I don't want to hear about it!_

Pitch could only stand there, looking blatantly amazed. He had never seen the Sandman so…emotional. His body rippled with contained tension and his expression looked like it wanted to crack in two. His knuckles were an even paler shade of gold than they normally were and Pitch feared for a moment that the normally docile Guardian would hit him.

Sandy raised a threatening finger and sparks of golden sand crackled and popped from the tip like it was a sparkler about ready to blow. _I warned you that when you finally pulled yourself out the world would be different. And look at that, I was right!_

Pitch shook his head as he quickly backed up, really not wanting to provoke the little Guardian. "Sandy please, I-"

But Sandy was _not_ in the mood. He stomped after Pitch and backed him up against the wall where he had no room to run as he continued to rant and yell at him. _I __**told you**__ the night you found out that we were here for you Pitch. That you could trust us because we were your family, and that we would support you in any and all ways that we could. AND YET, _he wrote, the words becoming bigger, bolder and more angry-looking. _AND YET, you STILL didn't ask us for any help when any one of us would've gladly given our lives to help you! Tooth practically __**did**__ give her life, or don't you remember that either? _He accused, glaring coldly.

Pitch could honestly say that he remembered no such thing and thought it would be a good idea to be honest about it this time. "No." He replied flatly. "I don't."

He threw his hands up in the air, evidently disgusted by Pitch's stupidity. _In the first five months, _he told him and Pitch could clearly see he was fighting to keep his cool._ Tooth was a bloody wreck. She was too busy looking after you to do her job or sleep or even __**eat**__! She damn-near starved herself for you Pitch! Not to mention thousands of the children in the world lost their belief in her and that added to her pain. At the end of July she was so sickly that she could barely move! North had to put her in an isolated ward to keep her from fading. Yes, that's how bad it was. She nearly slipped into the moon-damn Void because of you!_

Pitch's face had grown paler with each sentence that formed above the sand Guardian's head and when he was finally done, Pitch felt like he was about to pass out. How had all this happened?! And better yet, how was it that he didn't remember any of this? Had something wiped his memories of the last year? Had some other spirit taken them for their own uses? But no matter how many questions he asked, there were no answers. Basically, he didn't know.

But he didn't want Sandy knowing that.

So, trying to keep the fear that had blossomed inside him for Tooth's sake subdued, he let out a slow, steady breath and said, in a voice that was far too shaky to be false, "I had no idea…"

_Of course you didn't!_ Sandy interrupted, glaring at him. _You were too busy mourning and wallowing in your own pity to notice anything going on around you!_

Pitch forced himself to ignore that last bit. "But," he continued, hoping to re-forge some of the respect and trust that had been lost to the past year. "I swear to you that I will try my hardest to make up for the time I wasted with all of you, especially Tooth. I love her," he said, trying to appear as sincere as he could. And it was true, he did love Tooth, but after the information he had received in the last few minutes he wasn't sure she would love him the same. Of course, she had _seemed_ relieved when he had seen her and North at the Pole, but- as he well knew, looks could be deceiving. "I love her with all my heart, and that's never going to change. So I hope you can find it in you to forgive me for my…selfishness."

Sandy's expression didn't waver. He continued staring at Pitch for what felt like hours with such a scrutinizing gaze that Pitch felt as if he were under a microscope instead of standing before his best friend. He tried not to squirm as Sandy's gaze started drifting up and down, as if he was looking past his body and into his very soul.

Finally, when Pitch felt like he was about to just collapse into a pile of nightmare sand and slink away, Sandy lowered his arms and sighed. _It's not my place to forgive you for this Pitch. You did this to yourself, and it's to yourself you need to apologize. You wasted an entire year mourning a life, and in the process you almost lost another, not to mention your own. I love you like a brother Pitch, _and so saying he floated up until he was at eye-level with the Boogeyman. He reached forward and drew him into a slightly awkward and completely unexpected hug.

Pitch blinked, not sure if he should hug back or not but, after a few seconds he allowed himself to embrace the smaller Guardian and when he did, he found that the golden sand didn't hurt him one little bit. He frowned, staring over Sandy's shoulder at his hand which was resting on his back. A light dusting of dreamsand still slung to his palm when he raised it.

Sandy pulled away, keeping his hands on Pitch's shoulders and his face directly opposite his friend's. _But you __**have**__ to make better decisions._ He shook Pitch's shoulder for emphasis. _You have to, do you understand me? Think of the pain you went through. You wouldn't want Tooth to have to deal with the same kind of agony, not to mention your daughter and Jack and the rest of us, would you? Because, I don't know if you know this, but it would hurt just as much for us if you did._

Pitch shook his head. "No." He whispered. The gears of his mind, which had been spinning fast enough to generate electricity for the last five minutes because of all the information pouring in like water, suddenly ceased. Only one thought echoed from the dark recesses of his mind. Just one.

_I need to be better._

He needed to be better, for Tooth and for Sandy, for the Guardians. For all the other people that depended on him- his daughter, his girlfriend, he needed to be better for them. And for her. Yes, he needed to be better not just for those he knew, but also for those he barely knew. For the girl he had taken in, and for the thousands and thousands of other children and adults of the world that depended on him to help them chase the bad dreams away. He needed to be _better_.

He pulled Sandy back into a fierce hug, squeezing the little dream-maker tightly. "Thank you Sanderson," he murmured into the Sandman's shoulder. "You are right. You are _so_ _right_. I should've known that. I shouldn't have been such a weak spirit. Tooth almost died because of me, and I won't put anyone else in that kind of danger, _ever again_."

Sandy seemed a little surprised that his yelling had worked so well. Then he snapped out of it and hugged him back. _That's...good Pitch. That's really good. I'm glad you're accepting responsibility._

Pitch nodded. "Of course. I was stupid and selfish, and even though I shouldn't have done what I did, there's nothing for it now but to get over it and try to be a better person." He shrugged. "Just pick up the pieces and try to start over with all of you."

Sandy bobbed his head in agreement as they pulled apart but he remained floating at eye-level with him a few inches away. _That's really the only thing you can do. _He reached forward to pat Pitch in the shoulder. _But it still takes a lot of gumption to own up to that. And I'm proud of your for it._

Pitch smiled and, even though he barely knew what he was talking about, it made him feel somewhat proud too. Knowing that he had almost caused Tooth to die- his involvement had been indirect but it had been his fault none the less, that had almost killed him inside. But when Sandy had told him that he- that all of them, would miss him and mourn him as much as he had mourned whoever had died in his life in the last year, well that had just been the proverbial water of life that brought him back to life.

_Speaking of which, I really have to remember to ask them about this person who supposedly died and that I have no recollection of. _He thought to himself as Sandy started to write again. But for now, he just needed to get Sandy's permission to take the vial and the sand, without arousing his suspicions. And, from what he was beginning to write it might not be as easy as he thought.

_By the way, _Sandy wrote, giving him a questioning look. _What do you __**really **__need my stardust for? I assume It isn't because your Nightmares are unruly?_

Pitch shook his head. _Alright. Time to either come clean, or tell the most elaborate lie of your life. One that will put the whole 'Ward the Boogeyman away by hiding under the covers' thing to shame. _"Well..." He began, still trying to decide. Maybe a mix of both truth and lie might be best. "It's like this Sandy. I _am _having trouble sleeping- not as much as I used to," he added quikly when a concerned expression flashed across Sandy's face. "But I'm still having trouble. But the starstuff isn't exactly for me."

Sandy frowned. _Who's it for then? _He asked, puzzled. _Tooth? I don't think it would do anything much for her except shine up her feathers a little._

Pitch took a slow, deep breath before finally admitting, "No one needs it."

Sandy raised an eyebrow.

"Yet." Pitch continued. "No one needs it _yet_. I only wanted to take a vial in case something were to crop up and I needed it. The main reason I came here was for this." He reached into his other pocket and brought out the bag of golden dreamsand out for Sandy to see.

Both of Sandy's eyebrows shot up into his golden hair and he frowned, looking from the pouch to Pitch's face. _Why do you have this? _He asked. There wasn't much else to ask.

Pitch sighed. "I took it for someone. I would prefer not to tell you who. Just know that it would have been used in moderation and for purely sleep-related reasons."

Sandy looked like he was about to protest, but Pitch raised his hand.

"Please Sandy, I haven't slept in three weeks, I'm trying to sift through all the new information you've just given me and I have to deal with some unruly residents in my home. Please, can you just trust me and let me have the sand this once? I swear I won't abuse it or ask you again! Please?" He didn't like to beg, but Nightmare sand alone wouldn't help her fall asleep for long. She needed something stronger. Something that couldn't potentially hurt her if he used it too much.

Sandy regarded him silently for a long moment, looking not at his face or at the pouch of sand in his hand, but at a segment of his robe near his ribs, to the left of the arm that held the pouch. After a moment of noticing just where he was looking Pitch frowned and looked down as well, only to find that he was staring at a small gash in the fabric of his robe.

_Why would he be staring at that? _He wondered, frowning and looking back up at Sandy who caught his gaze. _He knows I wear the same robes over and over again, and after ten thousand years they're bound to achieve some wear and tear that I can't fix. _He frowned again and glanced down, wondering if some of his stitching had come loose before he remembered. That tear had happened the first night he had met the girl. She had been trying to break away from him and had raked her fingers which had transformed into claws over his chest. Only one had caught, but that single clawed nail had been enough to shred through the fabric like butter.

Sandy sighed and pushed the hand that held the pouch of sand back towards Pitch. _Go ahead, _he told him. _Keep it. The vial too. Use it for whatever you need._

Pitch sighed in relief and tucked both precious sands away before turning back to Sandy and taking his hands, shaking them as he thanked him but Sandy only shook his head.

_You can thank me, _he told him firmly, pulling his hands away and giving him a firm look. _By trusting me enough next time you need something like this to ask me if you can take some of my sand, instead of __**stealing **__it. _

Pitch had the good grace to look slightly ashamed. "Yes Sandy."

Sandy cracked a smile and Pitch knew it was safe to smile back. They talked for a few more minutes, trivial stuff really, about how Jack was doing and Sera. Not that those were trivial topics to either of the beings discussing them, but in the grand scheme of things let's just call them trivial. And it was several minutes after they had come to an understanding when Pitch finally told Sandy he had to leave.

He embraced the Sandman warmly, thanking him once again before pulling away and heading to the door. Sandy followed him.

_I wish you would tell me who this is for,_ he wrote reproachfully, holding the door open for him.

Pitch nodded his thanks as he passed through. Sandy knew very well that he couldn't shadow-travel in here. "I wish I could old friend," he told the Sandman honestly. "But I can't. Not until I'm sure of a few things. Then I promise you'll get to meet her- all of you will." Then, realizing that he had slipped up he quickly turned around and left, hoping that Sandy hadn't noticed it.

But of course he had.

Sandy watched Pitch disappear as soon as his foot landed on the stairs outside, his face construed into a puzzled, and curious, expression. _Her?_ He thought to himself, still frowning as he closed the door and headed up to the navigation chamber in the right tower from which he could steer the entire castle and watch the dreamsand strands of the children of the world, all twisting and turning through and into each other like a lattice of golden ley lines that encompassed the entire city of Burgess and surrounding countryside over which Night was beginning to fall.

He made it to the navigation room with only a few detours- one to pick up something to eat and another to re-lock the vaults which Pitch had broken into. When he got there, the first thing he did was eat the cheese sandwich he had made himself. That would give Pitch some time to get back to his home and hopefully fall asleep. Then he could check to see what little secrets Pitch was hiding.

Sandy sat in a small, plush golden armchair on the edge of the observation deck which sat on the second level of the tower, above the engineering platform. To his left sat the magnificent steering wheel he had fashioned himself from living oak which he used to steer the castle all around the world. To his right sat the huge and hulking message tube station he had liberated from an Austrian museum that had tried to scrap it.

The dream-maker beamed at the tube station as he ate his sandwich slowly. It had been over a hundred years ago. He had been flying relatively low, only a few hundred thousand feet above the ground, and had spotted four men hauling the mechanism through a scrap-yard. It had reminded him of the message tubes they had used aboard the ships he had served on in his brief placement period after Kozmotis had convinced him to sign up. He had spent several grueling months aboard the _Sishani Ru_, learning how to navigate the sky-seas and all the other incredibly useful skills being a sky-seaman taught you, before eventually being placed in the Star Guard.

The purpose of the message tube, as I'm sure you've guessed, was to send messages throughout the entire ship at the press of a button. Though Sandy hardly needed to send messaged to his crew, as there weren't any, it gave him a homey feeling and reminded him that he had once, a long time ago, not been lonely.

After he finished his sandwich he dusted himself off and headed to the desk behind him where he kept all of his charts and maps. He reached in and pulled out the one that featured all the Ley Lines and took it over to his globe which sat to the right of the steering wheel. He laid the map, face-down, over the globe which he had had up here since he had contracted this place and, strangely enough, wasn't made of dreamsand, but starstuff.

For all dreamsand's wonderful qualities, it was not a very steady substance. It was made to he shaped and melded, but it was not made to hold such a position for long. Which was why, when he had created this castle and his statues and all the other things that everybody else believed to be made of pure dreamsand, he mixed in a little bit of starstuff into the recipe. Just to make things stick together.

The ink- which had dreamsand mixed into it and gave it a shiny appearance, seeped through the paper and onto the globe, marking the pathways over the entire northern hemisphere.

Contrary to popular belief, Ley Lines weren't just some superstitious hocus-pocus that some human made up for a story. They were real, tangible lines that criss-crossed the globe and seas. But not in the way you would think. Ley lines were actually the roots of Yggdrasil, his adopted niece's home which ran through the entire earth, deep beneath the surface. Every inch of Yggdrasil was magical, from the tips of her boughs to the farthest root tip. So, when one of the root lines grew too close to the surface a small pocket of magic opened up. And the magic was even stronger where two roots crossed. That was where nexuses happened; magical rifts where a regular human might be able to travel in between the planes of existence.

Sands flicked a switch to his right and a control panel popped out. He immediately started typing in coordinates and the globe recalibrated instantly, rotating until he could see the area that was the east coast of North America. He tilted the focus knob up a little and the plane expanded and contracted rapidly until he could see the entire city of Burgess. Only one Ley Line ran through Burgess, but it was enough to connect all six hundred and thirty residents' dream strands to his instruments so that he could monitor them and adjust accordingly when one child needed a better dream. Sandy focused in on it, using the twin joystick controls like a virtual video-game player.

The feed on the globe was starting to resemble more of a camera angle that showed golden lines gathering from all across the town against a contrasting blue landscape. It was still early afternoon in Burgess, which meant that hardly anyone would be sleeping right now.

_I just hope Pitch __**is**__ asleep, _he thought to himself as he steered closer to the Ley Line._ Otherwise I am going to look very stupid._

Unfortunately for Sandy, his hopes proved to be in vain when, after steering the globe the closest it could get to the Ley Line so that he could see the readings on his little set of dials which lay on the left side of the control panel, he saw that there was no evidence of the Boogeyman being asleep. Just a few fussy toddlers doing late nap time, a snoozing accountant and three mothers catching up on their sleep after a busy day of housework.

He folded his arms over his chest and pouted. _Damn._ _Well, there goes that plan. Now I'll probably never know what he's up to!_

Sandy took up the controls and started to move the joysticks back and return the globe to its original position, after which he had decided he would go take a nap, but before he could fully pull away a flicker on the dials caught his eye. He frowned. _That shouldn't be there, _he thought as he zeroed back in on the Ley Line where he found a single thread of dreamsand which had blended in so perfectly with the others that he hadn't noticed it before. He checked the trail and found, to his surprise, that he led to Pitch's caves! There _was_ someone asleep in there, but it wasn't Pitch. Judging by the readings, it didn't even seem to be a spirit.

Sandy tapped the dial, wondering if he needed to recalibrate his instruments again. This didn't make any sense. What would a human be doing in Pitch's caves? Had Jamie come down for a visit at Jack's request, to check on the Boogeyman? So many questions flooded his mind but when he tried to check on the dream to see if he could find its owner, he found that he could not.

Every time he tried the dials went crazy and the globe twitched a little, as if it knew that this was not someone who he should be spying on. Sandy stared in disbelief at his equipment. He had never encountered anything like this before, in all the ten thousand years he'd lived as the Sandman. Nothing! And he'd dealt with some pretty tricky dreams before- Pitch's and Jack's included. But this…this was something altogether new and slightly scary.

_Maybe if I try to access the dream through the Ley Line,_ he thought, taking the joysticks in his hands again and easing the globe back into position just like a fighter pilot easing his aircraft into a hanger. _Then I'll be able to get at least a peek of the dream and see whose it is._

He guided the viewing port of the globe closer and closer, making sure no to disturb any of the other dreamers in Burgess and he almost managed it but, at the last second, just as he was going to steal through the dreamsand the joysticks jerked out of his hands and the controls started to go haywire! The mechanism which kept the globe revolving started hissing and spitting golden sparks and the dials were flickering all over the place.

_Abort mission, abort mission!_ He cried inside his head, diving for cover underneath his pilot's chair and covering his head. He didn't get up until several minutes later, when the hissing had stopped and when he did, he discovered that the wiring for the globe and most of the surrounding machinery had been utterly fried.

Sandy's jaw dropped open and he immediately rushed back to the controls, frantically checking them for signs of damage. The globe sat, lifeless in its square frame while the starstuff blinked dully up at him. He bent down and gave the side a rap with his knuckles and the maintenance panel on the side popped open. Sandy raised his hand and a bright golden ball of dreamsand formed in his hand, illuminating the inside of the machinery.

Everything looked absolutely perfect.

He blinked, wondering if he was seeing things. He reached in with his non-lit hand and felt around, checking the pressure and temp inside. It was a relatively simple set-up, honestly. Smaller fans that were attached to the underside of the castle pushed compressed air up through tubes that ran through the entire castle and, in addition to keeping the castle afloat, also provided power for the rest of the mechanisms that ran throughout his home; from the message tubes when he didn't want to forget something to the globe that kept him on course. Everything was air-powered.

_Pressure's OK, no abnormal change in temperatures, no buckling in the couples, this thing doesn't even need a new condensator for the ignition charge!_

Sandy sat back, stunned. The bright light in his palm dissipated and he shut the panel, still staring at the globe in utter shock. Everything looked absolutely perfect on the outside too. There wasn't a single scratch!

_This is really annoying, _he mentally grumbled as he checked the dials once more. They were all holding steady at their various levels. One conveyed there were about twelve people sleeping in Burgess, none of which were the Boogeyman or the mysterious anomaly that he had seen just before the circuits blew. In fact, when he finally got over his shock and preformed routine checks on all the equipment and mechanics, including the message tubes and fans, he found that everything was just as it had been before the controls had gone crazy.

That severely bothered him. He couldn't deny it. But as soon as he had finished his run-through, ensuring that the controls were all running smoothly and he tried to locate the mysterious dreamer who had been powerful enough to knock out all his instruments, he came up empty. There wasn't a single trace of whatever had caused the disturbance, and he couldn't get a fix in Pitch's sleep signature, so he could assume the Boogeyman wasn't sleeping.

_Which is what the rest of the northern hemisphere should be doing, _he thought to himself, stepping up to the wheel and turning it a fraction to adjust his course. Not to say he wasn't still curious about the anomaly, he was, but he knew that his job came before strange occurrences. Unless they were world-threatening. _I'll get back to this tomorrow, after I've had some time to think._

He gave the wheel another turn, looking very much like a majestic sea captain sailing through the rapidly darkening skies, dodging the clouds like treacherous rocks while his spiky golden hair blew in the breeze. This was his favorite part of being the Sandman, aside from bringing sweet dreams to the children of the world.

He was so enveloped by his fantasy of being a sea Captain that as he flew off into the night he didn't even notice the sliver of shimmering light floating just off the port side. It hovered in the air like a little bird, silvery threads of light swaying like fingers, waving the Sandman off and once the Cloud Castle was as sufficient distance, the light turned tail and headed back to its master who was hiding behind a cloud several yards off.

A young man with a wild head of silvery hair that stuck out in all directions poked his head out from behind the clouds and, once he was satisfied that the coast was clear, fully emerged from his hiding place to join the ball of light.

He was a thin young man, not unlike the silver staff which he held firmly in his right hand as he hovered in mid-air with his legs bent for leverage, purely out of habit. At first glance he might've been thought to be the infamous trickster Jack Frost, but once you looked closer you would see the subtle differences. The different shades of his hair, his age, and his vehemently green eyes that shone like spotlights against the vast expanse of clouds.

"Whew." Said the young man in a soft, nearly inaudible voice, watching the golden beacon that was Cloud Castle disappearing into the distance. "That was a close one." It had been indeed. If the Sandman had found out…then all this work would've been wasted and they would have to start back at square one.

The boy was broken out of his thoughts however, by the sudden appearance of the ball of light which had been speeding towards him and was now only a few yards away. He tucked his staff underneath his arm and held out his hand for and it alighted on his palm, warm and gentle as a feather and he felt a faint pulsating that made it seem as if the light were alive.

"Hey little guy," he said, cupping the light in both hands and beaming. "You did a wonderful job, thank you."

The light flickered and a sweet little jingling noise, like a teaspoon clinking against fine china resounded through the air in response. The young man laughed. It was a merry sound, like chimes whose notes had been carried away by the wind, only to be returned later, along with the sounds of a thousand other chimes. "That's true. It wasn't very hard." He looked back up in the direction Cloud Castle had gone and saw, to his surprise, that it was almost completely gone. All he could see was a speck of gold in the distance.

_Sandy always was one to go big or go home_, he thought, silently chuckling to himself as he shifted the light to his other hand and took hold of his staff, spinning it expertly in the air a few times. He dropped his hand and the ball of silvery light hovered in the air, awaiting his instructions. "You can go back to your brothers and sisters," he told it. "If I need you I'll call."

The light flickered again in confirmation, then turned and sped off into the night, glancing off clouds and chiming merrily at the wonderful joke they had played on the Sandman while the other Guardian of the Night and brother of the Moon turned and stared down through the maze of silvery clouds. "Now, I need to pay a visit to Pitch's caverns. I think it's time to see this girl for myself." He said quietly before taking off like a bullet, heading straight for the caves of the Boogeyman. He had done his job and hopefully Manny would be pleased that Pitch's secret hadn't been found out quite so quickly. Now he was going to go see what the fuss was all about.

XXXXXXXXX

Pitch appeared back in his caves no less than ten seconds after he left the Sandman's abode, and when he did the first thing he did was let out a sigh of relief and sink into his favorite chair in his library.

"Whew. I thought he would never let me leave!" He muttered to himself, smiling slightly as he brushed back his disheveled hair from his face and wiping sweat away in the process. He had actually been sweating the entire time. He just hadn't noticed it until now.

He wiped his hand on his robe which instantly absorbed the sweat and stood. _No time to waste. _He thought, heading for his new tenant's room. Half-way there he decided to stop by the kitchen and grab a few things for her to eat in case she was awake. Food always helped heighten disposition.

When he reached her room Onyx nudged the door open for him and he swept in, as silent as a whisper. She was still asleep, curled up into a little ball underneath her covers and making little moaning noises every time she moved.

Pitch laid the tray down gently on the bed, making sure not to startle her back into the waking world as he brought out the little bag of golden dreamsand from his pocket. He took a pinch and sprinkled it over her face, but it had the exact opposite effect he planned. Instead of lulling her back to sleep she let out a terrific sneeze that was accompanied by a loud curse.

"WACHOO- MOTHER F-!" Fortunately she cut herself off with another sneeze before she could finish.

_Un_fortunately for Pitch, her last sneeze was directed straight at him. His face was spattered with a revolting mix of spit, snot and dreamsand. More of the latter than anything. Pitch immediately backed off. "Ugh! That's disgusting." He reached up and wiped the gunk from his face, glaring at the girl. "Did you really have to do that?" He demanded, wiping his slightly slimy hand on the comforter with a look of pure disgust on his face.

She let out a few more violent sneezes that made her rock back and forth before she was finally able to answer him. "I didn't do it on purpose," she grumbled, wiping her nose and glaring at him over the top of her hand. "What was that crap anyway?"

Pitch, too busy worrying about if she was alright to even realize how much she had spoken to him, leaned in closer to inspect her. "Dreamsand. I borrowed it from a friend." He answered briefly, raising a hand to her forehead. "Are you alright? You look pale."

"M'fine. Fine." She brushed his hand away and leaned back but this only induced a fit of coughing that became so severe Pitch feared she would pass out from lack of oxygen. Her hacking coughs shook the frail bed and Pitch automatically reached behind her and started patting her back lightly until she quieted down.

"Easy," he told her, using the heel of his hand to massage small circles on her back that he knew would help relax her. "Easy. You're alright now. I'm sorry about making you sneeze but I really was trying to just help you sleep."

She lifted her face up which was curtained by a thick length of hair, shadowing her features and practically everything but her eyes which shone, bright and infuriating. "How...does this...help?" She snarled, taking a few deep breaths in between her words to calm her pounding chest.

Pitch sighed and pulled his hand away from her back. "It doesn't, I suppose."

She snorted and turned her head away, pushing the hair back from her face with one hand while she scratched her side idly with the other. Pitch watched her silently for a few minutes. She seemed well-rested enough, even though he had only left her about three or four hours ago. Her hair was an absolute mess and Pitch wondered if she wanted a hair brush or something to de-tangle it, though judging by the way she yanked and tore her fingers though her scalp he doubted it.

"So..." he ventured slowly. "Did you...sleep well?"

She shrugged and yawned. "Was kinda cold." She admitted, though somehow she managed to make it sound like it was his fault. But before he could offer another blanket she changed the subject. "I'm bored." She said.

Pitch winced. He recognized that tone of voice. It was the one Jack used when he was about to start up some mischief and which Sera affectionately called the 'Armageddon' tone. But whatever it was called, Pitch knew it wasn't good.

He rubbed the back of his head, wondering what to say. "Um...I have some old board games somewhere." He offered hesitantly. "Do you like board games?"

She stuck out her tongue. "Bleh. There's a reason they're called _bore_-d games."

Pitch chuckled in spite of himself. "You do have a point." He told her, then he shrugged. "I don't have much in the way of entertainment." He admitted lamely. "I have a library, but I would prefer it if you didn't go in there. At least until I trust you a little bit better."

Her eyes lit up the second he mentioned the library and he felt guilt twist his insides as the look faded as quickly as it had appeared. "Oh." She mumbled, lowering her head so that he couldn't see the disappointment he knew would be in her eyes.

He knew better than to reassure her with a hand on the shoulder. She would only lash out and he didn't want all this work to go immediately to waste. So he settled for trying to look on the bright side of things. "Hey, look what I brought!" He said cheerfully, reaching around behind him to pick up the tray that had been sitting idly behind him since he had woken her up. He held the tray out to her and couldn't keep the smile off his face as her eyes began to glow with delight once again.

She lunged across the bed and snatched up the tray, holding it close as she dove into the bowl of chopped up fruit with her other hand. Juice dribbled down her chin like a river of sticky sweetness and Pitch had to fight to keep from laughing at her.

He smiled and clapped his hands in jubilation. "There, I knew that would put the color back in your cheeks." He told her happily. "Eat up. You look famished."

She nodded and took his invitation to heart, finishing off the bowl of fruit in under three minutes and only taking a second in between to breathe before she started slurping down the small cup of yogurt that he had included.

"My goodness child, take a moment to breathe!" He told her, not even bothering to hold back his chuckling as she paused with a glob of yogurt half-way into her mouth. She slurped it up and smiled sheepishly. Pitch laughed. "It's alright, believe me I know the importance of a good meal and how hard it can be to restrain yourself."

She nodded and began to eat again, this time much more slowly and deliberately. Though in reality there wasn't much point to it. She finished off the yogurt in record time and handed him back the tray and bowls with a satisfied belch that blew Pitch's hair back and smelled like cherries.

She smirked. "Good grub." She told him, nodding appreciatively. Then the turned and fell back onto the bed again, pulling her covers up and over her shoulder until she was once again curled up like a baby.

Pitch frowned, slightly thrown by her actions. "Um...so you're going back to sleep then?"

She nodded and mumbled something that sounded like, "Wake me in the next decade."

He smirked and stood, picking up the hem of the blanket and evening it out over her before he turned around and left the room. It would be best to just let her sleep. Besides, he had other things to do.

He contemplated leaving the bag of dreamsand on the table beside her bed but then thought better of it. Dreamsand was powerful stuff, and she didn't know how to properly portion it out. So he took it with him, figuring that he could just stop in every few hours to administer more. And he did. Though thankfully, the next time he stopped by and sprinkled the golden dust over her face she didn't sneeze and wake herself up. She only rolled over and yawned, smacking her lips as a blissful smile stole across her face.

Pitch beamed. _Good_. She was dreaming. That was very good indeed. And she would sleep for several long hours. So, knowing that and knowing that he had precious time in which he could be truly alone, Pitch chose to utilize the time by busy preparing for the inevitable. Namely, her next escape attempt.

He knew it was coming. It would be stupid to think that she was give up just because he gave her some fruit and a bowl of yogurt. She had almost succeeded the last time, so why should she stop now?

_It's what I would do,_ he thought as he melded through the shadows to his library to pick up a small but powerful grimoire on barrier spells. The book was the color of dark seawater and had many a crinkled edge or a tear on the cover, but he paid no attention to that. Magic was magic, in any form. And he needed to cast these barrier wards to ensure his safety, as well as hers. _He_ certainly didn't want those spiders crawling around his home during the night!

The first thing he did when he reached the tunnel that led above was cancel the barrier spell he had previously enacted to keep out the Guardians. The Guardians had dispelled the barrier which kept him from entering their respective homes first thing after he had recovered from his vision-quest but, somehow, in all the long months that had passed between then and now, he had forgotten to do the same.

Not that it was strictly _necessary_ to bring the barrier down before putting up a new one. The important people- namely Tooth and Jack, were already allowed in through their respective exclusions; Tooth through playing her part in bringing him back to the man he was and Jack because he had forgotten to include the newest Guardian in the original enactment of the barrier. Still… he figured he should bring it down anyway. It might interfere with the new one, and the last thing he wanted was a botched Ward trapping him in here for a century. Again.

Pitch raised his hands to the edge of the barrier which, though to everyone else it was invisible, in his eyes he could see a shimmering black haze stretching across the tunnel opening which glowed slightly as the moonlight which was shining from the pillars of the Lunar Palace hanging high in the sky but was hidden from him by the clouds glanced off of it, producing a gorgeous effect. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Unlike most Wards and barriers of the magical sort, the one that protected his home was nothing less than an extension of his own magical energy, collected and cast in the form of a spell that would alert him no matter where he was. It was a lot of work to cast, and was even harder to recant. But he managed.

After a few long minutes of unmatched concentration, Pitch's will finally won throughout and the barrier crumbled back into dust which gathered together in a small pile at his feet and, as his command, slithered up through the air and into his sleeve like a snake. Pitch leaned against the rock wall of his caves, breathing slowly and trying to calm his racing heart.

"I don't remember it being that hard," he muttered, though he couldn't help the smile that had stolen onto his lips. "Still, I needed to do it sometime soon." He glanced up. "Now I just have to enact the new one."

Which ended up being a lot easier than he had expected it to be. All he had to do was focus a little more and the sand leaped to do his bidding, reforming the glimmering barrier at the flick of a finger and all he needed to do was make sure it recognized the girl as the one it was supposed to keep inside, and not outside.

_It's a good thing she has a tendency to rip her hair out,_ Pitch thought to himself as he held up a few strands of purple hair to the barrier which greedily snatched them up. "There, that's done." He said, looking satisfied. Now he just had to go do the other six or seven exits and all would be well.

All in all, traveling time aside it took him at least three hours to complete his task and, by the time he flopped down on his couch, ready to pass out and not wake up until next Friday, he had sealed the caves up tighter than a drum.

"Bloody hell," he murmured, laying his head down against the cool leather of his couch. "It has been far too long since I've done any sort of magic like that. I feel like I'm about to Fade right here and now!" This was merely his drama-queen tendencies talking. He felt fine, better actually than he had that morning. The continuous expelling of energy, both magical and physical, had given him quite the work out- and it was something he had definitely needed.

But he wasn't done yet.

Sighing, Pitch hauled himself up and headed to his kitchens. He needed to go on a supply run later, after he checked up on her one more time and to do that he needed a list of what he was lacking. Which turned out to be pretty much everything. He checked all of his cupboards, his pantry, his fridge and his freezer; there was hardly a crumb left in the whole place.

Pitch blinked in surprise at the barren fridge. He hadn't realized just how much she had been eating until now.

Since Tooth had become a constant visitor to his caves, he had taken it upon himself to stockpile her favorite foods, and that included fruits and vegetables. Unfortunately, vegetables proved to be one of Pitch's vices and he found he couldn't go a single day without eating a bowl of sugar snap peas or some carrots. Which had depleted the stockpile rather quickly until all he had been left with was the fruit, and that he promised himself he would not touch. That was Tooth's, he had told himself. One of the small things he could give back to her in return for all she'd given him.

"Well, I guess that's out the window then." He muttered, slamming the fridge door and turning on his heel, a slightly moody overcast tapering his joy at completing the barrier. He briefly stopped in on his tenant's room- _I __**really **__need to find out her name soon_, he thought as he pushed through the door. Calling her the tenant or just girl, even in my own head, is starting to get tiresome. "Onyx."

The horse, who had been standing idly a few feet from the bed, flicking her tail out of sheer boredom and watching the shadows it cast, looked up and snorted with relief. _Please tell me you're here to relieve me! _She cried, trotting over to him and nuzzling him with her head. _It's been so __**boring **__in here! All she does is sleep sleep sleep! She doesn't even toss or turn anymore!_

Pitch sighed and invoked one of Jack's favorite phrases. "Suck it up Onyx." He told her shortly. "I thought you would enjoy some time away from your sisters, since you're always complaining about how you hate them and they're a thorn in your side." He made sure to smile to let her know he was, at least part of the way kidding.

She snorted. _They are. _She grumbled. _But I'm __**still **__bored! There is literally nothing to do in here but twiddle my hooves and watch her snore._

Pitch chuckled quietly. Onyx sounded just like an older sister. But he knew that the comparison would only irritate the already bored Nightmare, so he changed the subject. "She's still asleep then?" He asked.

She nodded. _Yep. Out cold. That sand worked like a charm._

Pitch nodded, moving silently over to the bed and inspecting the girl. Her hair had once again fallen in front of her face and Pitch saw that a few strands had snuck into her mouth. He reached to move them, but then thought better of it. Instead, his hand slipped into his pocket and pulled out the bag of dreamsand. He sprinkled a tiny pinch over her face and tucked the pouch back inside his pocket before daring to actually touch her.

He sighed as he pushed the hair back behind her ear and saw her face. Since her arrival here he had barely seen it without a scowl or a frown furrowing her brow, but now here she was, sleeping peacefully with what he almost thought was a smile creasing the very tips of her lips. It made a smile of his own appear on his tired, happy face.

"She seems so peaceful," he murmured, gazing at her face.

Onyx nodded._ Yeah. She's a sweet kid. Really defensive, but has a good heart._

Pitch nodded. "Yes," he replied, though the tone of his voice told Onyx that he was only saying that as an automatic response.

She nudged him with her muzzle. _Pitch? _She asked hesitantly. _Is there something you want to talk about?_

The Boogeyman sighed tiredly, running his fingers through his hair. Actually, there was something bothering him. Something that had been pushing at the back of his head for the last few hours or so that he hadn't wanted to vocalize, but figured Onyx wouldn't let him alone until he did.

"Onyx..." He took a deep breath, not sure he wanted to know the answer but he knew that he needed to know. "What have I been doing the last year?"

Onyx pulled her lips back in a frown of confusion. _What do you mean Pitch?_

"Don't play dumb with me horse," Pitch told her shortly, raising his hand. "Just tell me, _what _have I been doing the last year?"

The large black horse pawed at the ground, still looking confused. _Well, you've been mostly working and spending time with the other Guardians and Sera_. She replied and Pitch frowned, wondering if she was just telling him what he wanted to hear. _You've been doing really well helping the children, keeping yourself alive and well and the world in balance, what more do you want me to say?_

Pitch shrugged, not sure. He had been expecting her to say...well...honestly he wasn't sure what he had been expecting her to say. That everyone was just delirious, that he hadn't really been out of commission in some self-centered pity-fest for the last year, that Tooth really hadn't almost died because of him. _Again_. And, according to Onyx that was exactly what had happened. But somehow, deep inside his heart, he didn't believe her.

He sighed and turned around, heading for the door. No time for mooning around now. He had shopping to do. "Onyx, I'm going to head out for a while." He told her shortly. "Keep an eye on her, will you? If she wakes up before I'm back tell her I've gone to get her more food." He turned around and headed for the door, his mind already putting his questions about the other Guardians and the last year to rest in favor of the slightly less complex and certainly less headache-inducing question of where he should steal the fruit and vegetables from.

Onyx nodded. _Alright, and where are you __**really**__ going?_

Pitch opened his mouth to say over his shoulder that he was going exactly where he had said he was going, but before a single word could pass his lips he felt a sudden chill go up his spine. He froze, listening intently, not just to the sounds of the room around him but also to sounds from various locations scattered around his cave. There was the sound of water dripping idly from stalactites hanging from the ceiling above, the sound of his Nightmares shuffling their hooves over the rocky ground as they paced in their pens, and the sound of his own, steady breathing. But beyond all that, somewhere near the entrance of his caves, he heard the muffled sound of footsteps. Someone was here.

"Keep an eye on her." He told Onyx, opening the door and striding through. "And don't let _anyone_ come in here! If they come near her, trample them."

Onyx tossed her head in compliance, though he didn't see her. Once he left the room, the Nightmare turned to the girl and said quietly, _You'd better hurry. He can move very fast when he wants to._

The bed creaked and, from underneath the frame, crawled a certain skinny, silver-haired youth. He had a few spider-webs in his hair but he ignored them as he got up onto his knees and rose gracefully, his silver staff in hand. He was more preoccupied with trying not to sneeze his head off.

"WACHOO!" He sneezed, coughing wildly into his fist.

_Gesundheit. _The Nightmare politely said.

"WACHOO! Thank you," he told her, sniffing as he gathered himself. "I will never know how the hell he stands being under there all the time!" He punctured his sentence with another cough. "I could barely stand five minutes!"

Onyx rolled her eyes. _Oh quit being such a baby. You're lucky I buy into all this memory-loss crap, otherwise I would've trampled you on site. _

Nightlight chuckled. "Ooh I'm so scared." He mocked her in his feathery voice, waving his hands like a ghost. "Woooo!"

Suddenly the Nightmare lunged forward, her glistening black teeth aimed straight at Nightlight's head but he dodged her with no apparent effort as he merely rose up into the air, reclining languidly back onto the air.

Nightlight had indeed been hiding under the bed for quite some time. He had appeared at the threshold of the girl's room less than half an hour ago, waving a proverbial white flag of truce. Now, generically Onyx would wait for her master's instructions before letting someone near the girl, those had been his orders after all, but when Nightlight had appeared his opening line had intrigued her.

"Look, I know normally you don't like light spirits," he had said. "But I'm the Man in the Moon's brother and I'm on a very important mission for him and I need your help."

Well, of course that had made her curious. What being wouldn't be? A secret mission from the Man in the Moon? So she had allowed him to come in and had asked him what he was here for. His response had been a very long and elaborate story that included her and her master, a memory potion, the Man in the Moon, and the girl. And by the end of it, Onyx wasn't sure what to believe. He claimed that Pitch had drank a memory potion purposefully to forget about the human girl that had died, which she could believe. Her master had done plenty of stupid things like that in his time. Besides, it made sense with the way he had been acting lately.

What she couldn't believe, at least not until Nightlight explained the full story to her, was the girl's part in all this. Supposedly, she was a catalyst to help distract Pitch from the lost memories so that he wouldn't go looking for them and uproot all the pain that he had fought so hard to keep hidden. And that was why he needed her, Onyx's help, to keep Pitch in the dark about his missing memories for as long as possible. She hadn't been too thrilled about it, Pitch had done so much for her after all, and she didn't like lying to him, but before she had actually made a decision Pitch himself had shown up and she had been forced to choose.

She was starting to think she'd made the wrong choice.

"Nah nah, can't catch me!" The Guardian of the night teased, sticking his tongue out at her. For all of his seriousness and age, he was still a prankster at heart and loved tormenting those who were too uptight.

Onyx let out a noise that was half snort, half sigh. _Just get going you repulsive little glowworm._ _Before Pitch catches you here and then we both get in trouble. You tripping the alarm will only distract him for a little while._

Nightlight frowned. "But…I didn't trip any alarm."

Onyx blinked. _But if you didn't…then who…_

Nightlight shrugged. "As the humans say, not my circus, not my monkeys. I did my job. And I would appreciate it if you held up your end."

Onyx nodded, to preoccupied with wondering who had gotten into the caves if it hadn't been Nightlight. _Yes yes, I'll keep my end. Just get out of here, before he catches you._ She told him impatiently, stomping her hoof.

Nightlight shrugged, floating lazily towards the door. "Suit yourself. See ya around, pony-girl." He gave the severely ticked off Nightmare a mocking salute, then turned and faded through the rock.

Onyx sighed tiredly, turning away from the door and looking back at the girl who, miraculously, hadn't been woken up by Nightlight's monumental sneezing. Why did she have a feeling she was going to regret this in the days to come?_ I just hope you're worth it kid, _she told the sleeping girl_. Because if Pitch finds out, there's gonna be hell to pay._

XXXXXXXXX

Somewhere deep in the bowels of the caves, a dark figure wrapped in a sky-blue cloak and hood which completely shrouded his face in darkness stole down the corridor, searching for the right door so that he could complete his work. His footsteps were almost completely silent and he moved with the practice and ease of someone used to working in the shadows, though this figure was not a dark spirit. Quite the opposite, in fact.

He paused at an intersection of tunnels, lifting his head and looking at the three options. One led down, the other up, and the third remained flat and even. He chose the last one, hoping that it would lead him to his destination.

It did.

After a few minutes of quick-paced walking, he made it to the gorgeous wooden doors that led to the Boogeyman's library. He deftly pushed them open, not even bothering to check for Nightmares as he strode in and pushing back the hood from his face as he did so, revealing a mop of raven-black hair that curled just below his ears, a bronze-skinned face that belonged to a young man about twenty, and bright golden eyes which were hidden behind a pair of round silver glasses.

The young man shook out his hair once before heading straight for Pitch's favorite reading chair. Gods above he _hated_ wearing that thing. It made him look like a wizard.

He chuckled as he drew up to the chair and reached into the saddle bag he had tucked underneath the cloak. "No, that was my predecessor." He pulled out a small, leather bound book and set it on the table. "There. Now that's done I can head home." He stared at the book for a long moment, the title gleaming in the ever-burning fire-light. The Miraculous World of Shapeshifters. "I hope this helps in the future," he murmured before turning around and dissapearing in a cloud of blue smoke.


	10. The Balmy Boogeyman of Bath & Wells

**Hey guys, I'm so sorry for the late update but I do have a surprise for all of you! Because of formatting issues I had to split the single chapter into two separate ones, resulting in these fine chapters you see before you! **

**This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful friend Starskulls, without whom I would be incredibly bored and probably dancing with myself (inside joke) and to my awesome reviewers who, even though it takes me crazy long to actualy update, they stick with me and it makes me so happy. **

**Alright, that's all from me. Lots of love!**

* * *

Today was the day. I could feel it as I opened my eyes from yet another nap. It was my third this day, actually.

I yawned, lifting my arms up above my head and flexed my fingers as the blood in my veins, stagnant from sleep, slowly began to flow again. A few things popped and I yawned again, trying to rub the sleep from my eyes. My fingertips came away with little golden crusties and I yawned again, opening my mouth as wide as I could in an almost perfect imitation of a big cat's yawn.

The Boogerman– as I had taken to calling my captor, though only in my head, had indeed kept his promise and continued to come around every few hours to dust me, whither I wanted it or not. Honestly, it looked more like golden glitter than sand to me. Like Carrie the Sparkle Fairy had Jaundice or something. But I didn't really care what it was. All I knew was it kept away those hideous night terrors that had plagued me since my first night in Cupcake's room. And that was good enough for me.

Of course it did give me some rather barf-worthy visions of cuddly sea creatures which I quickly turned into a much more badass aquatic dinosaur rodeo but, hey, you can't win 'em all. He also refused to leave the bag with me, which annoyed me.

"It's not a plaything," he had chided me, wagging a finger like I was a toddler. "It's a very powerful substance that could put you into a permanent coma if you so much as _touch_ it."

Dangerous or not, that stuff was a hell of a lot better than the black sand he'd blasted me with on my numerous escape attempts, and I took advantage of it whenever I could.

The first time I woke up after the Boogerman had left I felt better than I had in days! My body felt nice and relaxed, my muscles didn't ache any more, and my constant headache that followed me around like a rainstorm had all but dissipated. All in all, I was feeling pretty damn good. Good enough to get up off the bed- after fading through the chains of course, and start implementing the clever plan which had grown like a seed in my brain.

It had been hard. Harder than anything I had ever attempted before and, for the first day anyway, the results had been less than satisfactory. My body constantly hurt, my mind was positively exhausted and it got so that sleep was the main thing that took up my time. I spent hours and hours snuggled up under the covers, snoozing away and letting my body recuperate.

Now, some might think it odd that I was sleeping so much. Well, unless they've been kidnapped by the Boogerman and his prancing Nightmare ponies, they have no room to talk. The sweet blissful void of nothingness I managed to fall into when I dispatched those demonic sea creatures kept the pain from my injuries that persistently gnawed at me away and also helped me gather my strength, which I needed if I was going to get out of here.

I rolled my eyes, turning around to straighten the covers of the bed. "_If_," I muttered skeptically when I was done, bending my arms back behind my head and yawning mightily. "There's no _if_ about it. He's a moron that couldn't keep a jack in a box. I'll be out of here and back in Cupcake's room by dinnertime."

Not that he didn't try, mind you. Even though I hadn't tried to escape for the last five days he still had Onyx watch me like a hawk. Even when he was in the room, talking to me. It appeared he wasn't taking any chances.

The only time the horse wasn't in the room was when I slept. And even then she stood outside the door diligently, erasing any chance of me escaping that way. I wasn't entirely sure why he didn't want her in the room with me while I was asleep- _probably something to do with her sisters feeding off of me,_ I thought, yawning again. In which case I didn't mind. I never wanted to experience anything like that _ever again._

I reached down to touch my toes and heard something click. I chuckled to myself, straightening and twisting my spine, letting it pop and crack like brittle wood. "The one problem with sleeping a lot," I muttered to myself as I rolled my neck, trying to loosen myself up. "Is that you get really… frikking… _stiff_."

My body felt like a Popsicle stick and it took me a few more minutes before I was finally limber enough to move freely. When I did I walked over to the door and pressed my ear up against the door, listening for the familiar sound of Onyx breathing. The soft sigh of whuffling reached my ears and I nodded. She was there. Good. That gave me time to practice a bit and go over it in my head once more before he came in for his daily check-in on me.

I moved back to the center of the room and stood, facing the door, as still as a statue. I didn't want him or the Nightmare to come in on me practicing. That would be annoying and waste all the effort I had put in the last three days.

"Which is something I am not going to accept," I told myself firmly.

I had learned a lot about myself these last few days; mostly about my powers and their limitations. The principle I was employing worked just about the same as it did when I Changed into animals. Concentration, and strength of will. But, in spite of the hours and hours I spent working to perfect my powers I was still having trouble keeping control. It was a very fine internal balance I had to maintain and, more often than not, the resulting power that flooded my system was too much for me to bear and I ended up knocking me out for several hours.

Being able to keep conscious and aware while I Changed was actually a relatively new development. Not that I would need much control when the time finally came. Just enough to figure out which directions to go and to run.

I took a deep breath, slowly exhaling in and out. My concentration was the key. I lifted my hands up into my field of vision, keeping my gaze focused on them and as I did so almost immediately I began to feel a warm tingling in my fingertips, like I was holding them up to a warm fireplace. I willed my body to seize the sensation, expand it to the farthest reaches of my being, and then finally to envelope it. I had Changed into animals plenty of times before, but this was something altogether new and much more challenging.

"Come on," I murmured, flexing my fingertips and straining to reach the point of no return which I could feel was just barely beyond my grasp. Once I did that, I knew the change would come much more easily. "Come on, whoever gave me this crap did it for a reason! And if I can't make good use of it when I might as well not have been given it at all! So suck it up, and work dammit!"

Will was the only thing that governed me. My will, and it was stronger than my physical limits. I felt the fire crackling beneath my skin and heard the sickening crack of bones as my body started to re-align itself into a different form.

I closed my eyes. Here was where it really got tricky. I didn't want a fully-fledged Change, just a _partial_ one. But I didn't know if that would work. It seemed to be all or nothing when it came to these trippy powers. They, like me, didn't like going any less than whole hog. But I had to try.

"Come on, come on!" I urged, opening my eyes glaring at my fingertips. I ignored the fact that my eye-level was a good two feet higher than it normally was and continued to focus on my hands where I would see visible results. They had already grown longer, my finger bones stretching underneath the skin. But it was the skin I needed to Change. "Come ON!" I pictured him in my mind, knowing that having a good visual helped. His skin was ashen grey, like the burnt paper that starts a fire in a grate. Ashen grey…ashen grey…

Suddenly I heard a sound like a gunshot and grinned in triumph as the skin on my hands rippled and a ghoulish blue-back color that was pretty damn close to the shade I wanted. Half of the battle was over.

I raised the hand which was not my own and, concentrating with every ounce of will I had in me, tried to push the magic out of me. My eyes felt like they were on fire and I could feel my tear-ducts being driven into over-drive. I reached up and wiped the tears away with a single violent swipe. I didn't have time for crying now, not when I was so close!

But as I brought the hand away from my face I noticed flecks of black, glittering dust scattered within the tears. My eyes widened and I looked to my other hand which had extended on its own, as if trying to reach some unattainable object that called to me. In the palm of the extended hand, so light that I had barely noticed it before, was a small pile of dark sand.

A broad grin stole across my face and, without any hesitation whatsoever, I drew back my arm and hurled the sand at the opposite wall. "She shoots," It flew like a baseball across home-plate, speeding towards the wall and when it slammed against the rock face it exploded in a loud thunderclap, spraying sand everywhere. "SHE SCOOORES!" I cried, throwing my fist up into the air and doing a little celebratory jig. "Yes! I did it! YES yes yes!"

I was too body dancing in jubilation to notice, however, that the form I was currently taking had used quite a lot of energy and as such I was as unsteady as a newborn calf just trying out her legs. So, when I tried to dance and skip around I ended up tripping and falling flat on my face.

As you can imagine, there was a lot of swearing.

"Damn! Damn! Bugger bugger bugger Sods above ouch!"

I just love being a drama queen. Honestly, the fall itself hadn't been what had hurt me. It was only the icing on the cake, compared to the residual pain I was still feeling from the Change itself.

I groaned as I rolled over onto my back. The impact had rattled me, but not enough for it to truly make a difference in the whirlwind of pain I was trying to ignore. I hauled myself up into a sitting position, my body letting off the by now familiar creaks and groans of a ship at sea and I yawned mightily.

"Damn," I murmured, cracking all ten of my knuckles against the rock ground. "That was good. And now I'm tired."

I _was_ tired. So _abysmally_ tired right now that I felt as if I might pass out right now, right here. My eyelids started to droop and I felt the sweet nothingness starting to wrap its warm embrace around me, pulling me into the dreamworld. I shook my head, fording my eyes to flutter open again. "No!" I told myself, reaching for the bed. I used the post as a counter-weight and pulled myself up, yawning as I did so. "No dammit, I _will not_ fall asleep!"

I managed to make it to my feet and when I did I immediately fell onto my bed, allowing the shadowy guise to fall away from my form. My bones broke and re-formed beneath my skin, sending me into yet another endless whirlwind of pain that made me clutch the covers on either side of my and bite my own tongue to keep from screaming. Finally, when it was over I sat up slowly and carefully. My head was still swimming but I ignored it, reaching over to the table beside my bed where a small, battered notebook and a short, stubby pencil lay. The leather felt cool and rough against my skin as I picked it up and flipped the cover open. A passage shone out against the white paper, written in grey graphite. My first entry.

_A continuation of Journal one, written by Meggie, date unknown._

_Let's get one thing straight. The only reason I'm writing in this battered old calf's hide of a notebook is that it's the only thing keeping me sane in this creepy dark place. That and the horse insisted upon it._

_This book itself was a gift, I guess you could say, from my captor, the Boogeyman, which I got less than an hour ago. From the way he waltzed in, you would think he was giving me the crown jewels instead of a book that's seen better days. His weird dress/outfit thing looked like it had been washed and his hair looked combed, unlike the normally panicked and unkempt guy I normally see. He was grinning as soon as he came in through the door, book in one hand, a tray of food in the other. This time, instead of fruit it was a tray with toast, sausages and eggs. A real breakfast. _

_I dove into the food, finishing it off faster than he could blink. It tasted divine. Much better than the stuff Cupcake managed to sneak me from the kitchen at her home. And the toast had butter on it! __**Real **__butter, not the faux margarine crap I've been subjected to. _

_When I finished that, he offered me the book and a pencil. I really didn't want to take anything from him but food, but he looked so excited to give it to me that finally I just accepted the peace offering and here I sit, writing down my thoughts and feelings for him to read after I get out of this accursed place._

_He tried to stick around after I accepted the book, probably wanting to see if I put it to any use or if I just threw it aside. I didn't do anything. I just sat there, staring at him impassively until he left. Well, if nothing else can be said for this place, at least it gives me plenty of time to practice my expressions. I think I'm beginning to finally get the librarian look Cupcake seems to pull off so perfectly, staring over her little glasses like I've got an overdue book that needs to be returned. Even though I lack the ocular prosthetics._

_And speaking of my eyesight, I think it's getting worse and worse the more time I spend down here. Cupcake's initial assessment when I first mentioned my shitty vision might be right and, if it is, I need to get some glasses stat. I wonder if the Boogerman will get me some. Probably not. Oh well. Just another thing to add to my list for when I get out of here._

_You know, it just occurred to me. I wrote my name on here. Probably a stupid move, since there's a possibility that I don't make it out of here. But if I do and I leave this behind, then at least he'll know something about me. He always wanted to know my name. Well, there it is. Meggie. I won't tell you how I got it, that's a story I plan on keeping to myself unless I truly do trust you._

_That's all for tonight. I'll right more once I've had some sleep. Hopefully he'll give me a break and come back with that golden sand stuff._

I smiled. That had been written five days ago. Since then I had written an entry every few hours- or whenever I got bored. Most of it was just pure ranting and idle rambling. Occasionally I drew a few pictures too. I had one of him, standing in front of an open door to the library, one of Onyx standing beside her master with her head on his shoulder and one of my Spartan-furnished room. There was even one I had drawn after sitting there for four hours, watching the candle-light move. I was no artist of course, but I thought they had turned out rather good. Especially the ones of him.

There was something infinitely easy about trying to draw his features. Those narrow eyes, his slightly elongated nose, even his basic facial structure and coloring was hardly any problem at all. Of course, the fact that I had a grey led helped with the skin. And, for some reason, I always drew him with an amused smile. I didn't have a clue why, only that he seemed to be most happy when he was smiling that weird little half-smile, half smirk.

The Nightmare, on the other hand, was a different matter. She was a pain in the ass to draw. All those flowing, wavy lines in her mane and the texture of her skin, coat, whatever it was, pissed me off more than words can say when I tried to draw her. The only thing I could ever get right were her eyes. Those cold, flat, soulless eyes that at times seems to warm and caring, but at other times were the eyes of a pure killer.

I shivered as I flipped the pages a bit until I came to a more recent entry, dated yesterday. _Best not think about her eyes any more._ I told myself as I began to read. _It won't do me any good to be afraid._ My handwriting was still as atrocious as ever, but I paid that little mind as I put the thoughts of the horse out of my mind. For now.

_Entry the thirteenth._

_This place will be the death of whatever sanity I have left. I can __**feel**__ it. It's so damn dark down here that even the shadows which are cast by the numerous candles he keeps bringing in here have shadows. Candles give me the creeps. I love the soft light, but the flames make me uneasy. Honestly, I never thought I would be missing sunlight as much as I am. I've begged him to let me go up top for a little while but he refuses, saying I'll just try to escape again. Of course he's right, but he doesn't need to know that!_

_It's been over eight hours since my last entry, and phase one is in the works. I've been practicing like crazy since I woke up, but after so much Changing it's starting to take its toll. I keep getting dizzy and passing out, but I'm slowly getting used to it. The sensations are something I don't think I'll ever get used to though. The feeling of being turned inside out, of being unmade and then re-made again. It's almost starting to feel...pleasant. That's the only word I can use to describe it._

_In my last journal I said that it hurt when I didn't Change after a few days, and now that I'm Changing more often the hurt is going away. It's like being in one form is unnatural to me. I wonder of the Boogerman has found any more information on me or whatever I am. And if he has, why hasn't he shared it with me? He told me he wanted to help me, but so far he's done nothing but annoy me. He keeps coming around here, every few hours or so and I have to time my practices right and keep quiet, otherwise the horse will hear. She's got irritatingly keen hearing, as I found out earlier today._

_I was trying to practice and I tripped, slamming into the ground and before I knew it, the horse was standing over me with her face inches form my own, asking me in her creepy voice if I was alright. I told her yes, I was fine and that I had only tripped. Thankfully, she seemed not to notice that I was out of my chains again and, after watching me make it back to my bed and lie down, she left. Close call._

_Since the Boogeyman started bringing in that dreamsand stuff, most of my pain that use to torment me during the night has deserted me. Now all I have to deal with is the mental agony of being trapped in a tiny box with no end in sight. I don't even know how long I've been here. All the days seem to bleed together like paint, running through a wet canvas. And when I ask him, he doesn't tell me._

_I want to go home._

I sighed. I _still_ wanted to go home.

I turned the page to the newest entry, written only a few spare hours ago.

_Entry the sixteenth._

_The pain is back. And with a more fiery vengeance than ever. Even the dreamsand that he brings isn't enough to keep the pain away now. I'm trying too hard. There's too much stress in my body. Or it might be that I'm staying in the same shape too long. I don't know. I don't know anything anymore._

_I've tried to just lie back on my bed and relax, but when I close my eyes I see that little girl's eerie face staring back at me from underneath my eyelids. And that always gives me a headache._

_Aside from my pain, the worst thing that seems to plague me continuously, from the time I awake to the time I fall asleep late at night, is my practically insatiable __**boredom**__._

_In the early days of my being here I was too focused on trying to escape to notice but, thanks to the breaks I have had to learn to take in between practicing or else I knock myself out which consist of hours just sitting here doing nothing, I've realized just how gods-damn boring it __**is**__ in here. There is literally nothing to do! There were no books, no furniture, there isn't even a window for me to look out of! This place is beginning to look more and more like a cell the longer I spend in there._

_Just a quick little note: The Boogerman is still trying to get me to give myself up._ _Each time he comes in with the food and a smile, as if he doesn't know I'm being driven mad by this place. And who knows, maybe he doesn't. But I still won't do it. My plan is almost ready, and soon I'll be back in Cupcake's house. But, for now, I'm stuck in this little black matchbox, full of shadows and candles and stalking horses, ready to dust me if I make a wrong move._

I chuckled silently to myself. I had enjoyed getting my fill of ranting on his behalf and I remembered how my fingers itched to continue bitching about the Boogerman and the horse, but if he was going to read this when I left it behind I should at least be fair. And, in spite of what I wanted to tell myself he really had been trying to make peace with me. The book was evident of that, and these thoughts had prompted me to write the next, slightly more charitable paragraph.

_I will give the guy props for one thing; He's persistent. Most people that are confronted by someone with my attitude would turn tail and run before we even got to the 'hellos'. But this guy is truly trying to make me warm up to him, in spite of our less than smooth history he still brings me loads of good food, talks to me and doesn't take offense when I ignore him. That takes talent and a hell of a lot more patience than I have._

_The Nightmare Onyx tries to talk to me too, when she's on watch duty for me. And I answer her on occasion. Of course I have to retain an air of mystery, so I keep the most important stuff to myself. He's smart enough to know that though. And I bet he's also smart enough to know that I have something up my sleeve, but he doesn't yet know what. And he won't, until it's too late. Hopefully._

There the paragraph ended and I picked up the pencil, ready to start a new one.

_Entry the seventeenth._

_Eureka! Success! I has done it! After countless attempt and more than enough failures, I have finally been able to use the powers I have borrowed- 'stolen' might be closer to the mark but I'm going to go with borrowed because it makes me feel better. The point is, I did it! And I'm almost entirely sure that today's the day._

_I woke up feeling fabulous and pain free for the first time since the pain came back, but I think I'm going to become addicted to that dreamsand stuff if I don't stop using it soon. So I should be getting out of here in any case._

I paused, rotating my wrist as I scanned the page of the small, almost completely blank diary resting in my lap, checking for spelling errors. None were found and I sighed contentedly, putting the black pencil's sharpened tip back to the paper and beginning a new paragraph.

_All I have to do is wait for the right time and I'll be out of here lickity-split. That's gonna be the hard part though. Timing it right. And then I'll have to make sure I don't run into any of the horses before I manage to past the library. _

_I've mapped at least a little of these caves in my head and copied it down into here, but it's not going to be enough. I've tried to tap into his memories while I'm taking his form but it hurts me far too much. The pain is unbelievable. Like little tiny men sitting in my head, tossing around dynamite like they're playing hot potato._

_Speaking of little men, the little voice in my head hasn't made itself known for a good two or three days. Not since the incident with the spider which I try not to think about, as it gives me the willies. I'm slightly concerned about this, since it gave me some pretty good ideas before, but I'm trying not to stress myself out much about it. _

_Stress, as Cupcake says, poisons the mind and body. I swear that child was a hippie in another life. What with her talk of spirits and auras and chukras and stuff. Although, in light of what I've witnessed here perhaps I should apologize to the kid. She was right about the Boogeyman, after all. Maybe she was right about the other stuff too. _

_Well, right or not, I'm still not drinking that nasty tea she made me. Blech!_

I felt a small smile tugging at my lips as I remembered the awful taste of tree bark that had laid on my tongue for at least a week after I had tried the hideous concoction. Cupcake claimed that it opened your mind and soul to the presence of others energy, or some other kind of psychobabble junk. I hadn't believed her, and the result was some really gross-tasting hot leave juice that I had had to chug. I shivered. I was _never_ doing that again. Then I sighed and continued writing. Here came the part I seriously didn't want to write, but I knew I had to. It was only fair.

_If you're reading this, Boogeyman, then my plan has either succeeded and I'm gone; in which case I hope you'll never see me again and wish you good luck in your scaring and shit, or I've failed and am currently unconscious and you've gone snooping through my stuff to try to figure out some more about me. If the latter is true, BUG OFF! _

_I'm serious, if I found out that you've read this and I'm not gone, I will be __**severely**__ pissed when I wake up. A girl's entitled to her secrets, after all. And all that aside, it's just pain rude to look in someone's diary without their permission._

_However, if I __**am**__ gone and this is the only thing you have left of me, feel free to read it. Just know that if you do, chances are you'll never see me again. And if we do run into each other, it'll be a few hundred years too soon. _

_I appreciate the food and everything you've…ah…done for me, regarding helping me heal and stuff. But really, I'll be fine on my own. I've got friends in high places and…whatever this thing I can do is, I'll figure it out. Please don't come looking for me. You won't find me this time, I'm sure of it. Oh, and apologies in advance for whatever injuries you might sustain while I'm trying to escape. I'm trying to get this done with as minimal bloodshed as I can manage. But, if you get in my way again I will knock you out. _

I heard faint footsteps coming towards my door, echoing in the corridor beyond my prison door. My head snapped up and I strained to hear how far away they were. Not far.

My pencil flew across the paper as I feverishly tried to finish the entry before the person I was writing to showed up and saw me!

_I can hear your footsteps coming right now down the hall. I just hope you're ready. It's been nice knowing you, really it has. But I need to go home. This should be the last you'll ever hear from me. So, sayonara I guess. _

_Regards, Meggie._

I had just finished writing the last word and had made the period when I heard the door open a few yards away. I quickly snapped the book shut and turned to slide it under my pillow, straightening up just in time to see him walking through the door, Onyx and a tray with a sandwich and some chips in tow.

"Good afternoon." He said, striding over to me and setting the tray down on the bed beside me. "How are you doing child?"

I gritted my teeth at being called child. I _hated_ it when he called me that! "Fine." I grunted, reaching for the tray. I pulled it onto my lap and quickly discovered that it was tuna fish with pickles. That made my mood brighten a bit and I took a great big bite, savoring the taste of the fish until suddenly I felt an unfamiliar taste on my tongue and I spat the wad of sandwich out onto the tray. My face screwed up into a grimace. Ugh! The pickles were so _sweet_. Disgusting!

He frowned. "Is something wrong with it?" He asked worriedly, leaning in closer to me. "Do you not like tuna?"

I shook my head and peeled the sandwich apart, revealing a later of the vile-tasting pickles. I showed him, then I started pulling the off one by one and stacking them on the tray. He got the message.

"Oh, it's the pickles. I'm sorry, I must've gotten the wrong ones." He apologized. "There's water there for you." He nodded at a cup which I hadn't noticed to my left and I nodded gratefully, taking a swig to wash the awful taste out of my mouth. I swallowed with a grimace, then took another bite of the sandwich. I smiled. _Now __**that's**__ what a sandwich is supposed to taste like,_ I told myself, chuckling silently.

He grinned. "You like it?"

I forced the smile off my face, if only to keep him from getting an inflated ego. "It's alright." I told him, shrugging but I could tell he knew I liked it.

He nodded happily. "Good. I'm glad. And if there's anything else you would like, please, don't hesitate to-" he reached forward and laid his hand on my arm, only to recoil when he touched my skin. "Goodness child, you feel almost frozen! Have you been using the blankets I gave you?"

I nodded, testing my temperature with my own wrist. I was cold. Very cold.

He frowned. "May I?" He gestured at my exposed arm and I shrugged. He probably wanted to see if I was just as cold all over. My hunch was right. He lifted his hand up to my face and rested his hand on my cheek gently. "Hmm." He murmured. "Your cheek is warm," then he moved his hand up the side of my face to my forehead. "But your forehead is cold. Strange. How long has it been since you woke up?"

I thought about it for a second. In reality, it had been about half an hour, but I thought it best not to tell him that. "A few minutes." I told him. "Ten before you came in."

Pitch nodded, peering at me with concern. His hand, which was still placed on my forehead, moved his fingers up into my dense, tangled mess of hair, feeling for bumps and bruises. "You don't have a concussion," he murmured to himself as he probed my scalp gently. "Not so that I can tell." He ruffled my already tangled hair, smiling at me like an affectionate parent. "Everything seems fine." He made to lift his hand away from my head, but apparently some time in th last few seconds my hair decided that he liked his hand because snagged on his long fingertips and refused to let them go.

Of course, he didn't realize what was happening until I felt a sharp jerk against my scalp and yelped in a mixture of surprise and pain. "OUCH! Dammit!"

Pitch frowned. "What's wrong?" He wasn't paying attention and tried to pull his hand free again, sending agonizing spasms bolting through the straining follicles of my hair. "Girl, are you-"

I interrupted him with another exclamation, this time a curse. "YE-OUCH MOTHERBUGGERS!" But, of course with my luck it spooked him and he flinched back, yanking me forward. "OOOOOH," I moaned, bringing my hands up to my head and trying to push his hand away but that only heightened the pain as my hair was pulled in one direction and then another. I could almost feel the thin chords breaking and hear the popping sounds as some _did _break, echoing in my ears.

Finally he seemed to understand. His eyes grew wide and he instantly began stammering apologies. "Oh my gods I am so sorry my dear I didn't realize. Here, move your arm and let me see if I can just..." He wiggle his fingers and I shivered. Gods that felt so weird. And painful.

"OW! Knock it off!" I yelled, pulling my head back but that only produced more strain on my hair and scalp.

"I'm _sorry!_" He repeated as he tried, somewhat less violently, to get it free but eventually he realized that it would be useless to keep forcing it and sighed. "Look, hold still. I think I can fix it but you have to remain still. Alright?"

I folded my arms across my chest, resolving not to smack him. "Dammit get your hands _out _of my hair!" I growled, glaring at him as he began to untangle his hand again, _gently _this time.

He smirked as he worked the hair and my urge to smack him grew stronger. I was _severely _growing to dislike that smirk. "Believe me, there is nothing I would like better." He told me as he calmly moved his fingers back and forth. Finally, they came free and I flopped back on the bed, holding my head and moaning, half in relief that it was OVER and half in residual pain.

He leaned forward to speak to me. "Are you alright?" He asked seriously. The smirk was gone again, replaced by a more friendly and sincere smile.

I nodded, closing my eyes and rubbing my scalp tenderly. _Ooh_, that spot was tender. "Ugh." I muttered, lifting my head off the pillow to squint at him. "'Mm fine. Just hurts."

He nodded sympathetically. "Lie back and rest my dear. I'm sure it'll pass." Pitch went to lay a hand on my arm, but I flinched away. There was something _glistening _on his hand! He frowned. "What?" He asked.

I made a face and pointed to his hand. "That."

He lifted his hand up to his face and recoiled in disgust. "What the-" he wiped his hand on his knee as if the slimy gunk might hurt him. The slime came off and was immediately absorbed by the robe, which was almost as gross as the gunk itself. When he was done with that he looked up at me. When I tried to catch his eye to ask what that gunk was, I found that he wasn't looking at my face, but my hair.

I raised both eyebrows in surprise. What was so special about my hair? Hadn't it just tried to eat his fingers a minute ago?

He noticed my look and smirked, lowering his eyes to mine. "Don't worry, I'm not going to make the same mistake twice." He told me, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest, looking me up and down. "No, I was thinking more along the lines of you seriously needing a shower."

I blinked. "Say what?"

He smirked, then the smirk slid off his face and a more somber expression of apology graced his featured. "I'm sorry I didn't notice it before," he told me. "You've been here a few weeks so I really should have expected this. But what will all the running around I've done lately trying to keep up with my job and my family and you, I completely forgot."

Now I was thoroughly confused. "What are you talking about?" I asked, frowning at him.

He smiled and lifted his hand up for me to see. Grease and slime coated his hand and I made a face, repelled by the very sight of it. "Ugh!" I wrinkled my nose. "That's gross!"

"That was also in your hair." He told me, smirking as my hands flew up to my scalp. "Now you see why I'm offering the shower. Your hair aside, you look like you've been through a warzone child." He looked me up and down again. "And the rest of you doesn't look much better. Though you're by no means repulsive, a few more days without a shower and your life will be unbearable."

I sighed. Truth be told, I had been feeling a little uggy. The constant Changing kept most of the filth at bay, but they say little stuff catches up and after five days with a little gunk each day, that amounts to a lot of gunk. I just hadn't been paying attention to it. It's not like I go to the bathroom every day and see what I look like in the mirror, only to ignore it. "Alright," I conceded finally, lifting my chained hands up. "Alright. Where is it?"

He smiled. "I thought you would say that." A single touch from his fingertip dissolved the sand and I rubbed my wrists for a few seconds, then I swung my legs out and dangled them over the bed hesitantly. I wasn't sure whither I could support myself- not after that last Change.

Pitch seemed to sense my fear because, instead of ridiculing me, he walked around the bed and held out a hand. I eyed the hand suspiciously for a few seconds, then I sighed and took it. He hauled me up as if I was nothing and, before I could object his arm was around my shoulders and I was using him as a crutch as we walked towards the door.

Pitch opened the door and there, right in front of us was Onyx. The gigantic horse, who had been there since before I woke up, flicked her tail in surprise as she surveyed the scene before her. _Pitch? _She asked, looking from the Boogeyman to me. _Is everything alright?_

Pitch nodded, ducking his head out from under my arm but keeping me upright my holding me under the armpits. "Everything's find Onyx. I'm just taking the girl down to the pools so that she may wash her rat's nest of hair and return to a more human state of cleanliness." He turned to look at me. "Would you be opposed to riding Onyx?" He asked.

I blinked. "Say what?"

Pitch repeated his question, then added with a smile, "I know you know how. I'm just suggesting it because the bathroom is quite a ways away, and I know it might cause you pain if you have to walk too far."

I glanced from the horse to her master slowly, weighing my pain against the fear of riding that wild horse again. The last time hadn't ended all that well for me, and I didn't care to be bucked again.

Yet again Pitch seemed to read my thoughts. He smiled gently and slipped his hand into mine, squeezing. "She won't buck you again," he promised me, looking straight into my eyes. "You are completely safe while she's with you. That I can swear. And I'll be right here the entire time."

I sighed, knowing that I didn't have much of an alternative and that, even if I did choose to walk I would be in severe pain. "Alright, alright." I finally conceded, throwing up my hands. "How do I get on this crazy horse?"

Onyx snorted. _The traditional way dear. _

I rolled my eyes. "Oh yes ha ha. My sides are _splitting _black beauty." But, regardless of my sarcasm I was still scared. I just didn't show it.

Pitch smiled. "Here," he said and waved his hand, making a small cloud of the black sand form around my feet and before I knew it, I was being lifted into the air. I flailed a bit but Pitch reached forward and took hold my my arm, once again steadying me until I was able to mount her. I settled myself in my seat, then felt a jolt as Onyx started walking forward.

Let me just say this right now: I am not a jockey. I have never ridden on a horse on my life that I could remember, apart from that one time and even then it didn't really count. But, anyway, I wasn't good at riding. My ass hurt after a mere five minutes of bumping up and down on the horse's back while we walked down that corridor, and after that it didn't get much better. My balance was shit as well. Basically it was all I could do to keep from falling over.

Thankfully, Pitch kept a hold of my hand the entire time as we headed down the hallway, passing corridor after corridor. It was kind of weird, and incredibly awkward for me, since I was at that very moment trying to figure out how this trip down to a bathroom might work to my advantage.

_Ugh, _I thought, stoically looking ahead of us at the dark tunnel which led farther down into the caverns. I couldn't look at his face, even though I knew he was looking at me. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, glancing in my direction every few minutes with a small smile on his face. It made my stomach turn because I knew that I was only supplying him with false hope. He thought we were getting somewhere with this...whatever it was. And I couldn't let him think that. Not when I was planning to leave as soon as he turned his back.

"It's just a little farther."

I was jerked out of my thoughts by a familiar voice speaking in my ear. I turned to look at him before I could stop myself. He wasn't looking at me, thankfully. Instead he was looking straight ahead, scouting. "What?"

He glanced up at me and I felt like I was going to hurl. Oh gods, that _face! _Like a little hopeful puppy-dog that I was going to eventually kick. "The baths. It's just a little bit farther." He was silent for a few minutes as we went farther and farther into the darkness. Thankfully the Nightmare's eyes and the torches sticking out of brackets every few feet along the wall were enough for us to see our way, though I heard his curse a few times on the way down. As a matter of fact, I could've sworn I heard the Nightmare curse as well on the rare times when she misplaced her step.

Suddenly I heard him say, "You know, I'm surprised you've lasted as long as you did without a shower. I'm sorry about it, don't get me wrong, but I wouldn't have been able to handle it."

I rolled my eyes. Small talk was _not _something he did well.

He shrugged, not noticing my look. "Then again, most spirits don't have to attend to personal hygeine regiments. I only do it because my hair gets _unbearably _disgusting if I don't wash it regularly. Maybe you're the same." He glanced up at me again and I shrugged back in response.

"Maybe." I said, though I doubted it. I hadn't needed a lot of showers in the three months I had been at Cupcake's, only about one every few weeks as a luxury. I hadn't needed to go to the bathroom either. Ever. Which had, oddly enough, severely interested Cupcake, but she hadn't gotten much of a chance to explore this little side-effect of whatever I was. _Maybe she should've. _I thought as we turned around a corner and the horse stopped.

"Here we are." Pitch announced, reaching up to help me off the horse. I hopped down with surprising ease and leaned on him for a moment, letting my feet get used to the ground again before I attempted to walk.

As soon as my feet hit the floor I felt an over-whelming wave of heat hit me and I almost keeled over. "Whoa," I blinked, my eyes suddenly watering from the intense, if relaxing, heat. "Where the hell are we? A frikking volcano?"

He chuckled. "In a manner of speaking." He directed my gaze forward and, blinking through my tears and the wall of steam that had flared up before me, I managed to make out a large, bright pool of water sitting several yards away from us. I squinted.

"Is...that-?"

He nodded, smiling. "Yep. The wonderful underground pools that make my caves a home." We made for the pools, Pitch providing a slightly annoying, if interesting, tour-guide-esque narration while the horse silently followed us. "They were created by subterranian rivers that run through the earth and the live magma that flows through the rock. Together, along with the various minerals and chemicals that turn the water blue and provide an extremely relaxing, comfortable, detoxing environment that is the perfect place to go after a long days' work."

I nodded. We were on the edge of the pool now. I could actually feel the heat rising up from the wet floor and the combined aromas of hot water and bath salts was enough to make me yawn.

Pitch chuckled. "I know. This place just makes you want to fall asleep and stay here forever." He let go of me and moved over to a small cabinet built into the rock. He started rifling through the contents, pulling out towels and many many many different-colored bottles and while he did, he continued to speak to me. "But if you think this place is bad, you should see the Cloud Castle. Good gods, if I weren't a fear spirit that worked with sleep I would've probably conked out the instant I stepped foot in that place." He laughed, turning around to face me. He gathered up all the bottles and towels and came back over to me.

I raised an eyebrow. "What's all this?"

He handed me a few bottles, naming them as he did so. "Shampoo, conditioner, skin moisturizer, lotion," he handed me a small silver bottle with a stopper in it that looked like a perfume bottle. "Mint extract," then he handed me a small hinged box that smelled of roses. "And bath salts."

By the end of it my hands were over-flowing with objects and it was all I could do to keep from spilling stuff. It was piled high enough so that I could barely look over the top of the pile. I gave him an exasperated look that clearly said, _does it __**really **__look like I need all this stuff?_

He looked down at the stuff in my arms, then grinned nervously. "Sorry." He took back everything but the shampoo and conditioner. "If you want any of this, be sure to ask." He said, sliding the bottles back into their cabinet. "It's all here."

I nodded. Fair enough. "Where'd you get all this crap anyway?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the abundant supply of hair care products in the cupboard. Loriel, Aveeno, none of that looked like something a guy might use.

To my amusement, I watched his face go a slightly ruddy shade of pink as he blushed. "I...have a girlfriend." He murmured, looking away from me. "It's all for her."

I whistled appreciatively. Wow. This guy went to a lot of trouble for his girl. We stood there for a while awkwardly as I waited for him to leave. He kept staring at me, apparently forgetting what I was supposed to be doing here.

After a bit, I coughed politely. "Um..."

He instantly jumped on my hesitance, seemingly glad to talk again. "Is there something else you need? Another towel, different shampoo? Whatever it is, I can get it."

I felt a smile quirk my lips and asked innocently, "Privacy?"

I swear his face went several different shades of grey, pink, ruddy rose and a hundred other embarrassed hues that I couldn't name. I couldn't help it. I busted up laughing. Mirth shook my frame and it was all I could do to keep the objects from slipping out of my arms.

If it was even possible, he blushed deeper. "Y-yes, of course." He stammered, turning around and making a swift exit. When he got to the opening which led to the tunnels we had came from, he stopped and turned back. There was a smile on his face. "I'm leaving Onyx here with you. If you need anything, you can ask her."

I raised both eyebrows. "What?!" I yelped before I could stop myself. "I'm supposed to take a bath with that thing standing there?!"

Before Pitch could respond, the horse let out a laugh in the form of a loud neigh. _Oh, don't worry about me sweetheart. _She told me, sidling over to me and staring at me with those soulless golden eyes. _I swear your lack of dignity will be maintained._

I swore at her and she tossed her head and stomped her hoof, highly amused by my reaction. Pitch laughed as well. "Just make sure not to kill each other before I come back." He told me as I made my way to the poolside and set my bottles and towels down. "I'll be back in about an hour. If you need more time just let me know. Don't worry," he added when I shot him a glare. "I promise to knock."

I nodded. Fair enough. He turned to go but before he could I hollered after him, "I like my shirts purple, grey or black. Preferably purple."

He turned around and the look on his face was as uncomprehending as if I had spoken Greek. "Excuse me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"My shirts." I repeated. "Black, grey or purple. I like purple but black will do."

He continued looking at me as if I were an idiot.

I rolled my eyes. You'd think a guy who had made it his mission in life to basically be my nanny would've realized that after multiple times I've tried to escape, my clothes would be a little too beat-up to put back on. "If you seriously think I'm getting back into these after taking a nice, hot bath," I told him flatly, gesturing at my ripped and dirty clothes. "You're crazier than I originally thought you were. Cause I'm not gonna."

It took him a minute, but finally the look of understanding dawned upon his face and he nodded. "Of course not. No, and I wouldn't ask you to." He sighed tiredly. "I'm sorry, I hadn't even thought about that. But of course I'll get you some new clothes. In fact I'll get on it right away." He assured me, raising his hands like I was a wild tiger that needed to be placated. "You just take your bath and relax, I'll be back soon."

And with that, the Boogeyman turned on his heel and vanished into the darkness.

I waited a good five minutes before taking off my filthy clothes and sliding into the water. Of course I made the horse turn around before I did so- there was no telling what kind of connection her and her master had.

As soon as my toes hit the glassy green liquid I let out an ooh of pleasure and dropped down into the pool like a sack of weights. The water enveloped me like an old friend and I literally felt days and days of dirt and grime practically melting off my skin, making me feel ten times lighter and happier than I had felt in days.

The water was _perfect_. That was the only word I could think of to describe it. The temp was hot- not exactly _boiling_, but definitely hot enough to open up my pores and relax my body. My tense muscles, which had been stiff and sore the last couple days due to all my excessive sleep, suddenly had all their pent-up stress and tension released in a wave that almost knocked me out.

I groaned in utter rapture as I sank deeper into the water until it was all the way up to my neck. "Oh my gods, this stuff is awesome!" I whispered, waving my fingers through the glassy water like a mermaid. I could see dirt and pools of oil from my skin and the tips of my long head of hair which rested in the water floating on top of the surface, as if the water itself was pulling the grime from me.

Onyx sidled over to me, resting her hooves on the edge of the pool. _Isn't it just? _She asked, smiling. _I love this pool and what it does to Pitch. He rarely ever comes down here, but when he does he always comes back up feeling fresh and rejuvenated. Like he's a hundred years old again._

I raised an eyebrow, turning around to face her and causing light ripples in the water. "A hundred?" I repeated, wondering if I had heard her right.

She tossed her head and I took that as a yes. _Indeed. He is over ten thousand years old. _She must've seen the disbelieving look on my face because she snorted and tossed her head again. _You don't believe me?_

I shrugged. I'd seem some other pretty weird ass stuff in my time, most of it down here, so honestly I didn't know what I believed any more. He didn't _look _over ten thousand years old. _Then again, _I reflected, looking down at my skin. After just a few minutes of soaking in the water it had already turned a brighter shade of pale creamy. _Looks can be deceiving._

After a few minutes of bobbing in the deep end, I decided to swim over to the edge instead of staying in the middle of the pool- partly because I wasn't fond of water and partly because I just wanted to relax for a bit and not worry about slipping. There was a small, flat rock that I found I could sit down on comfortably and when I did I leaned my head back, submerging my hair almost entirely into the water. I closed my eyes in rapture, smiling contentedly as I felt the tension in my scalp just melt away. I wasn't sure what kind of minerals were in this stuff, but whatever it was felt like pure magic on my skin and for the first time in forever, I felt calm. At peace.

_I'm so glad I didn't tell him any of my sizes, _I thought with a smile. That should make things take a lot longer than they normally would. Unless he realizes that and comes back to ask me, but I wasn't too worried about that. I sat up and shook out my hair, then reached for the shampoo. I squirted a generous portion onto my palm and started massaging it into my scalp. It felt heavenly!

After lathering my hair into a foam tower of violet and soap and deciding to let it sit for a while, I turned to the other stuff he had given me. Time to try out some of these soaps!


	11. Well I Would Shadow-Travel 500 miles

**Hey gang, this is the second part of my two-chapter update! Hope you like it! If you haven't read chapter ten I suggest you read it!  
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_Of all the things I thought I would be doing tonight, _Pitch thought as he sifted through the racks upon racks of clothes in a local Burgess department store. _This was not one of them._

He picked up a black T-shirt, trying to gauge what size she might be. Was the largest size 22 or 24 for t-shirts? No, wait a minute, they didn't use numbers for shirts did they? No, they used labels. Right. So he would be looking for a large then.

Pitch gently put the shirt back on its hanger and headed down the aisle to the farthest side of the shirt section and continued his search which he had been conducting for the last few hours for new clothes for the girl. He reached forward again and pulled out another t-shirt, this time green. Then he remembered her request on color preferences and put it back. _Black, grey or purple. _He reminded himself. _Only those three colors, and not grey if I can help it._

So he started looking through a cluster of grey and black t-shirts hear the end of the rack, searching for something that might be more her style and preference. Though he had to be careful not to take too many things from one store. Humans were so abysmally territorial that they might actually start locking their doors properly if they figured out things were disappearing.

"And that wouldn't be very fun, would it?" Pitch said to himself with a smile, pacing down the rows. This was the third clothing store he had 'broken into' tonight and by far the more fruitful. The other stores had been full of nothing but fluffy, girly, pink garbage that he wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. And, if it turned out that she did like pink, she would just have to deal.

Pitch sighed as he made his way down the aisle. It was his fault really. He had been the stupid one to offer her a bath and hadn't realized that she needed new clothes. It was actually a fairly obvious thing that he should've realized, but hadn't until she had requested the different clothes before entering the bath.

It was actually surprising to him that those rags she wore had kept her covered for as long as they had. Then again, she _had _been under blankets for the last three days and hadn't had much concern to look presentable.

Still, Pitch had agreed instantly, knowing the importance of clothes and the comfort they brought. So he had headed out in a mission to get her some new, clean, comfortable clothes.

At least, that was how it had _started_.

Once he got inside the first store however, he had realized that she hadn't given him any sizes to shop for. He had resisted the urge to face-palm, but knew that he was too far away from the caves to travel all the way back, just to ask her about sizes. So he had decided to just take a wild stab in the back at it with hope that, if he messed up, he would be able to come back later and get the right size.

But once he started actually _looking _for clothes, he realized that he couldn't just get her jeans and t-shirts to sleep in the entire time she stayed with him. She would want something looser, more comfortable. So, once he had acquired a few sets, he had switched from jeans to pajamas and now, several long hours later he was reduced to scurrying all across the town, trying to keep a low profile so the Guardians wouldn't stick their noses into his business. The fact that Sandy hadn't already told the others was a miracle that in and of itself, but in spite of that Pitch didn't want to press his luck.

He was having to juggle a lot recently; getting her food and now clothes, keeping the Nightmares under control, keeping the Guardians off his back and, eventually, once this latest travesty was over he would need to get back to his job and go do his rounds. He couldn't leave it all up to Onyx and the few rare Nightmares that he could trust, after all. As much as he wanted to take care of the girl, he couldn't neglect the other children that depended on him.

He sighed tiredly, sifting through the shirts before him. _So this is what a single parent must feel like, _he thought, weighing one shirt in his palm idly and comparing it to another on the rack. _I really must remember to show Jamie's mother a little more respect the next time I drop by. Not that she sees me anyway, but still. _

The shirt in his hand was about the right size for her- he hoped, but it was black. And she had specified that she wanted _purple _above all else. Which was what the one on the rack was, but it looked like it might be a bit too small. He looked from shirt to shirt, wondering what she would want more. Her favorite color, or a better fit.

He debated for a while before finally sighing and taking them both, stuffing them into the already brimming plastic bag that he had been lugging around for the last few hours. He had already hit the jeans section twice- once for her and then a second time in search of a few pairs for Jack. Wearing the same pants for hundreds of years wasn't very fun, after all.

"Maybe I should just head back and get the rest tomorrow night," he mused, looking from the bag to the racks. He had been out here for a while, and he didn't like leaving her for more than a few hours at a time. There was no telling what trouble might ensue.

So, with that in mind, he hauled the bag up over his shoulder and- looking very much like a creepy black Santa Clause, he made for the closest shadow and instantly re-appeared in his living room.

Pitch plunked the bag down on the couch and followed suit, feeling the comfort of his familiar upholstery as he sank down into it and reclined backwards. It had been a _loooong_ day and boy was he tired. This had pretty much been his entire existence for the last few days which had seemed to bleed together for him in a random myriad of chaos and running errands. So much so that he hadn't even realized the days were passing until last night he checked the wounds on her hand and realized that they were almost fully healed.

She seemed pretty happy about that, as he recalled. Though she still had to wear the bandages around her wrists to keep the welts from returning. She wasn't happy about that, but she tolerated it which he was thankful for.

There were a lot of things he was beginning to be thankful for, actually. Among them the Nightmares' common sense. They knew better than to act up or cause trouble while he was this busy and they remained docile and compliant as the nights wore on, doing their duties and not even stepping a hair out of line because they knew he wouldn't be pleased.

Pitch himself paid the Nightmares little to no attention and turned over the majority of their supervision to Onyx when she wasn't busy watching the girl. He was too distracted with trying to make her feel comfortable and at ease with being here. He spent every waking hour that he wasn't out doing him job combing through his library for more information on her, stalking the unlit grocery stores at night once everyone else had gone home to procure more food for her and, of course, talking to her. And the latter had produced very good results indeed.

Since their little connection following her run-in with the spider, Pitch noticed that she seemed a little more relaxed and calm around him and Onyx, and he encouraged this as much as he could. He hoped that, with the combined influence of him and Onyx, plus giving her gifts and helping her to physically heal, she would finally open up enough to tell him her name.

He sighed, looking from the bag lying beside him to his TV. He hadn't watched a single episode of Total Blackout in nearly a month- since before this whole thing had started actually, and he found himself missing his favorite show.

_I'll watch it later. _He told himself firmly, standing up and stretching. _When all of this is over with. Maybe I'll even watch it with her._

But, for now, all he could do was get these clothes back to her and hope that the bath had been to her satisfaction.

Pitch hauled the heavy bag up and over his shoulder, grunting as the weight bore down on his skinny frame. _I need to start hitting the gym again, and soon._ He thought as he started heading back down the corridor, heading towards the baths. _Before my muscles turned to jelly._

He made his way down through the tunnels, hauling the bag on his back which made the going a lot slower than it normally would be. But he endured. Until he got about half-way down the tunnel and decided that to hell with it, he was just going to shadow-travel because this was taking too damn slow and run the risk of frightening her.

One quick trip through the undulating realm of darkness later and he was standing in the bathing cavern. He stepped out of the shadows, slinging the bag down beside him on the ground and, before he even looked around he called out, "Hey, I'm back! And I brought you some more clothes!"

Silence greeted him.

Pitch frowned, looking around. The cavern was unusually steamy and there was an unusually strong fragrance on the air. As he peered through the gloom, he saw neither the Nightmare, not the girl. Instantly panic began to flood through him. "Onyx?" He hollered, listening to his voice echoing throughout the massive cavern. "Girl?!" Nothing. "ANYONE?!"

All was still and silent.

Pitch started to hyperventilate. Where was she? Was she alright? Had she tried to escape? Had she _drowned?! _Thousands of fears flooded through his mind, each thought more terrible and likely than the last.

"ONYX!" He yelled, trying to keep calm as he stormed through the cave like a hurricane, searching every nook and cranny for her but found nothing. He even scanned the pool which had a thin layer of mist rolling over it like the seaside at dawn, but he found no trace of her. "ONYX, GIRL! Where are you?!"

Beside himself with fear and not knowing what else to do, he snatched up the bag and started running through the shadows from room to room, trying to find even a single sign of her or Onyx. Everything was happening in seconds; there wasn't any time to waste. He appeared, scanned the room for her and, when he did not find her, he vanished one more.

He kept calling their names too, but he was too worried to even think about calling the Nightmare telepathically. "ONYX!" He hollered, running through the hallways like a madman, scanning everywhere with wild, frantic eyes. _Oh dammit, why isn't anybody answering me?! _

Suddenly, a thought struck him. Maybe she was in her room! Seizing upon that he bolted down the corridor, straight towards her room. He used a few cheats and shortcuts to get there, but in the end it didn't matter. He still managed to get there and when he did he exploded from the wall through a shadow, anxiously looking around for any sign of the girl. Nothing, nothing- THERE! She was sitting on the bed with a towel wrapped around her and another one draped across her lap. Onyx stood beside her. They had evidently been talking but when he appeared all conversations ceased.

The girl moved with the speed of lightning, ducking underneath her covers until all he could see of her was her face. "HEY!" She yelped, glaring at him from over the rim of the blankets. "What's the big idea?!"

_Pitch! _Onyx whinnied in surprise. _What are you doing?_

Pitch immediately back-pedaled. "Sorry!" He apologized, averting his eyes. "I'm sorry child I didn't mean to barge in!"

The look she gave him clearly said that she didn't care, as long as he got out but he kept babbling, in a feeble attempt to justify himself and retain some of his dignity.

"You weren't in the bath cave and- and I called for you but no one answered me. I..." He sighed, dropping the bag and hanging his head, realizing just how stupidly he had acted. "I was worried for you."

The Nightmare snorted and he shot her a quick glare, but when he looked back at the girl he found that she wasn't glaring or rolling her eyes at him in exasperation, as he had expected her to do. She was simply staring at him with those piercing green eyes, never wavering. Her expression was blank as a slab of marble but, somewhere in the depths, Pitch thought he saw a glimmer of sadness lurking behind her blank gaze

He frowned. "What's that look for?" He asked.

She didn't respond.

He didn't really know what to say, so he tried to steer her attention towards a different source. Pitch put on a pretty good false smile and held up the bag. "Hey, look what I brought back! Here's all the clothes you asked for- some of the jeans are for my grandson you can just put those back in the bag, but at least now you have something comfortable to wear!"

Her expression seemed to brighten a little, but she remained huddling under her blankets. "Good. Thanks. Now leave me alone and let me get dressed! It's bloody cold in here!"

He chuckled. "Fair enough." He took hold of the bag and moved over to her bed, dropping it beside her and then moving away. As he got closer to her he noticed her hair. It was partly dry- still tangled, but it did look a lot better. There was no dirt in it, and the color was much brighter than before. Her face- what little he could see of it, was much cleaner as well and her skin practically shone with radiance. He smiled. "I assume you liked the bath?" He asked, nodding at her face.

Finally, a smile! Her face split into a small grin and she reached up to touch her hair. "Oh gods, it was wonderful!" She said, closing her eyes and beaming in reminiscent rapture as she rubbed strands of hair between her fingers. "The shampoo worked wonders and the water never got cold!"

He smiled back, pleased. "Well, it does come from an underground lava hot spring." He reminded her, to which she shrugged.

"Fair enough." She admitted. "Now, in your own words, bugger off! That means you too Fluttershy," she directed at the nightmare.

Onyx whinnied indignantly. _**Excuse **__me?_

"You heard me." She shot back, grinning. "Begone. Shoo. Bugger yea off!"

Pitch tried, and failed, to hold back a snort. "It's OK Onyx," he said quickly, reaching up to stroke her muzzle. He knew her well enough to know that she wasn't angry. Just annoyed. "It's OK. Let's give her some privacy." Onyx rolled her eyes and headed for the door. Pitch sent a quick telepathic message to tell her to wait outside for him before turning around to face her. "Just call me when you're ready." He told her gently, his gaze lingering on her face for a second and then on the bag, hoping that the clothes fit. "I'll be waiting right outside the door."

She nodded and as he shut the door he could've _sworn _he heard her mutter, "Creeper much?"

He chuckled. _She has a very high opinion of herself, _he thought, heading to the door. He opened and closed it without a sound. _Either that, or she's just a sarcastic little shite. _He bet the last one. But it might be the first. Who knew!

On the other side of the door stood Onyx, standing their patiently just like she always was. "Hey there girl," he said, walking over to her and leaning his forehead against hers in a gesture of appreciation. "You did a good job today. Thank you for taking care of her."

Onyx whinnied in agreement._ I was just doing what you told me to. _She replied modestly, bucking his shoulder. Bucking was a term ranchers used to describe the action horses make to indicate love and trust and involved butting her head against either the shoulder, chest or head gently. It was a lot like when a cat rubs its head against your hand. But Onyx was not a twenty-two hundred pound cat.

Pitch smiled, stroking her side gently. "Yes, but you didn't have to. You went above and beyond, and I appreciate it." He pulled away. "Now, I want you to head down to the pens and take a nice, long rest. Drink some water, take a nap and then you can go out on patrol tonight. You've earned it."

Onyx's lips pulled back in a happy grin. _Thank you Pitch. _She glanced at the door hesitantly, swinging her large head from side to side. _Are you sure you want me to leave now? _

Pitch nodded. "I'm sure." But she as still looking hesitant. "It'll be fine," he reassured her, patting her flank. "She just got out of a bath and I've given her the new clothes. What trouble would she _possibly _want to give me?"

Onyx shrugged. _Yeah, I guess you're right. _

"Of course I'm right." Pitch gave her a final pat on the flank to get her going. "Now go relax. Everything's going to be fine! I'm just going to talk to her, see if all the clothes fit and then she's probably going to go back to sleep. Simple as that."

Finally Onyx was reassured enough to leave. Pitch watched her go with a small smile on his face. Onyx did so much for him and he was glad to have her here to help him. She was his worker, his helper and, more importantly, she was his best friend. And he wouldn't trade her for anything in the world.

Once Onyx left, it was only a short matter of time before he was allowed back in. But, during that time he was resigned to tapping his foot idly, folding his arms over his chest and staring pointedly at the wall. If you were to look at him right then, you probably would've been reminded of his grandson. He had the same impatient look, the same gate, and he even tapped his foot the same way Jack tapped his cane when he was waiting for something.

Pitch sighed. _Good gods how long does it take to try on a few clothes?! _He wondered, unfolding his arms and glancing back at the door. He was getting slightly impatient, even though he had only been standing there for less than ten minutes. But he didn't have to wait much longer.

After a bit Pitch heard a noise from within and he turned around to face the door. "Can I come in?" He asked, listening intently.

There was a muffled response that Pitch took for a yes and he opened the door.

The first thing he saw was the girl. She was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed, on top of the covers. She was wearing one of the purple shirts he had gotten her, her hair was washed and hung in bouncy violet waves, framing her face and covering her shoulders like a cape. She was wearing jeans which, admittedly he found rather odd, but he decided to over-look it for now in favor of excitement and happiness that at least one set of clothes fit.

She looked up as soon as she heard the door open and when she saw him, her expression was slightly reminiscent of the deer in the headlights. Then it shifted to a small smile and she nodded. "Hello darkness my old friend."

Pitch chuckled. "Hello child." He couldn't help the beaming smile that lay on his lips as he walked towards the bed and stood beside her. "Well look at you!" He said, looking her up and down. There wasn't a single speck of dirt to be found, and the clothes looked like they fit her great. "All scrubbed up, you almost look like a normal human."

She rolled her eyes and her smile fell. She didn't look pleased. "Thanks." She muttered, folding her arms over her chest and looking down at her lap.

Pitch frowned and worry instantly flooded him. "Hey," he reached for her arm, laying his spidery fingers across it gently. "Is something wrong? Are they not comfortable?"

She shook her head. "No," she muttered. "Not that."

"Then what is it?" Pitch looked her over again. Nothing seemed to be ripped or torn, and the clothes didn't appear to be tight at all. Was she hungry?

He stood there silently for a few seconds, watching her face and waiting for some kind of reaction. She sighed, bowing her head. Her head hung in her face like a shining violet curtain and he resisted the urge to tuck it back behind her ear. Pitch saw movement out of the corner of his eye and his gaze was drawn to her hand. He watched as it slid across the bed, back behind her and then under the pillow. His self-preservation instincts kicked in and he almost reached for his scythe. Almost. But just as his hand started to twitch he stopped himself with a hand on his own wrist.

Thankfully she didn't seem to notice. Her hand kept reaching beneath the pillow until it appeared she found what she was looking for. She pulled her arm out and Pitch's eyes widened as he saw she was holding in her hand the small book he had given her. He went to speak, but stopped. She was swinging her legs out, over the edge of the bed as if she was making to stand up. And stand she did, straight as an arrow with her face set in a resolute mask as she turned towards him and held out the book.

He frowned. "Do you not like it?" He asked, taking the book from her with a puzzled expression on his face.

She shook her head. "No." She said. "It's not that." Her voice was small, as if she was fighting to keep the words from escaping her lips. Her hair was hanging in her face again, covering most of her expression but Pitch was able to make out pale skin and cold, fearful eyes.

_Fearful? What does she have to be fearful about? _He wondered. "Then what is it?"

She took a deep breath, like he did when he was about to attempt some very strong magic and raised her hands like a sorcerer. Her eyes were shut tight in concentration and her body slowly started to quiver.

Pitch's eyes widened. "What are you-" But the words petered out. Something was happening to her body. The quivering was becoming more prononuced and from his perspective several feet away it seemed as if the bones beneath her skin and muscles were actually shifting!

She gritted her teeth, clenching her hands tightly enough to turn the knuckles white and Pitch saw tiny streams of blood running down her palm from where her nails bit into the flesh.

"Stop that, what are you doing?!" He cried, taking a step forward and trying to stop her form hurting herself but the girl's head snapped up and she snarled.

"Get back!" She ordered. Pitch almost flinched. Her voice had deepened drastically, and her eyes were burning with so much fiery fury that he feared they might melt her.

Pitch backed up. "Alright, alright." He said gently, raising his hands in submission while he frantically tried to think of what might've brought this sudden wave of anger on. Had he insulted her in some way? Had he done something to anger her? Or maybe she was just afraid. But he couldn't feel any fear coming off of her. _Just what the hell is going on here?_

While Pitch had been trying to come to grips with the situation, he had also been failing to notice the rapid changes in her pigment and height. And when he finally pulled out of his thoughts he discovered that she had grown to almost his height and her skin had morphed into a dirty dishwater grey, not unlike his own pallor.

Her clothes too had changed. Instead of the purple shirt and jeans she had been wearing the clothes had collapsed into a black mass which merely covered her body as it tried to re-animate itself into a reasonable facsimile of what it was supposed to be. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. A low growl escaped her lips as the Change began to grow more and more aggressive, taking over every part of her being. Pitch had seen it twice before already, but nothing could've prepared him for this.

There was no screaming or wailing, thankfully. Only the deadly silence that enveloped them both as the final stages began to take place. Her hair retracted back into her scalp until it hung at shoulder length and her face contorted. But not a single scream passed her lips. Pitch watched in horrid fascination as the metamorphosis continued. There was something profoundly terrifying about what was happening in front of him. He knew what she was trying to do- at least, he knew a little of it, and he also knew that it was something he should put a stop to but somehow...he couldn't. He just kept watching, frozen to the spot like a statue.

In another few seconds, the transformation was complete. The final changes had forced her to crouch down, huddling like a dog from a winter storm but when she straightened up Pitch found himself staring, slack-jawed, at not the girl who had stood before him not five minutes ago, but an exact copy of none other than himself.

The double of him- and it _was _a double. There was no doubt about that. It had every bit of him down to a T, from the way he held himself to his hair. Every bit was there. -lifted its head up and looked at its still outstretched arms. It nodded appreciatively, its eyes sparkling with dangerous intent. Then it turned its attention to him.

It grinned a malicious grin and even though he knew it was not the girl's own, he almost thought he could see her featured hiding behind the illusion.

"This is nothing personal, I hope you know." The girl who had taken his form said- in her own voice no less. Pitch tried not to grimace. It was more than a little disconcerting to hear a young girl's voice come out of your mouth. "I just need to leave and...this was the easiest way."

Pitch blinked. "Wait, leave? What are you talking about, you can't leave!" Thousands of unspoken questions streamed through his brain, begging to be let loose. _Where would you go? How would you learn about your powers? Why would you leave here? Am I not doing good enough? What did I do wrong?!_

But she had that smile back on her face again. Or, rather, _his _smile on _his _face. It was that old familiar smile that had graced the Boogeyman's features on occasions when he had been inclined to create utter hell and torture for the poor humans which fell under his wrath, back in the old days when he had been the terror of the night. The smile that had been the terror of the world, both spirit and human alike.

"Can't I?" It asked and, before Pitch had even a millisecond to prepare himself, a bolt of black sand flew from one of his double's outstretched hands and arced across the room, hitting him squarely in the chest with enough force to throw him backwards like a rag doll.

Fortunately for Pitch, he had been in enough fights over his ten thousand years that his body automatically twisted as he fell to absorb as much of the blow as he could. The nightmare sand didn't hurt him at all, as it was a part of him, and when he landed on the rocky ground he only had to take a minute to shake his head and clear it before he was staggering to his feet again.

"Please," he said, raising his hands. He was starting to panic. He really didn't want to hurt her but...what if she left him no choice? "I don't want to hurt you! Whatever I've done, I'm so sorry and I will try to rectify it, but only if you change back and was can talk about this calmly-"

"No." It interrupted firmly. "No more talk." It sent another bolt of nightmare sand heading straight at him but this time, he managed to duck it.

_Okaaay, so she really means business. _He fell back against the wall, breathing heavily as he tried to figure out how to deal with this. This is what he knew so far: She wanted to leave. Badly. And to do that she had somehow learned how to mimic his shape and use his powers. Which she was willing to use to any means to escape. He sighed. "OK," he said, locking gazes with her. "OK. If you don't want me to talk, when why don't you?"

The double raised an eyebrow and Pitch took that as an invitation to continue.

He tried to make himself sound wise and learned, the way North did when he was telling Jack something incredibly important. "Why don't you tell me why you want to leave so much. Is it really _that _bad here?" He gestured around. "And anyway, what would you leave this for? A life running from other spirits that want to _kill _you, sleeping wherever you can, taking hundreds of years to learn how to do your job? Is that _really _what you want?"

As he spoke, the expression on his double's face had gradually become less and less confident and when he was finished, it was looking down at its feet with an expression of annoyance and resignment. "No." It said quietly.

Pitch nodded. "There you go. Now why don't you change back, we can forget about all of this and move forward with our-"

"No," It interrupted. "I don't want that." It raised its head and looked him dead in the eyes and Pitch's sweat dropped. He knew that look. The steel in his eyes, the jutted set of his chin. She was about to do something incredibly stupid. "But I will deal with that when it happens." And with that, she sent another, more powerful volley of nightmare sand right at him!

Pitch had no chance. The sand slammed into him like a tidal-wave, throwing him into the air and then yanking him down to lay in a crumpled pile on the ground. The sickening crack of his head on the stone echoed throughout the entire room, causing a ringing in his ears like chimes and all he could do was let out a low moan and hope that nothing vital was broken.

"Ooh," he moaned, wincing as he shook his head to try and clear it. _Good gods, somebody get the number of that bus. _His gaze was fuzzy and unfocused, but his hearing was still in good shape and as he groggily lifted his head, he felt a rush of wind rush past his face and heard fast-paced footsteps. _Shit, she's trying to leave! _

Summoning all of the strength he had left he reached out an arm to try and stop her- though really, what would that have done? Caught her leg and tripped her up, maybe. But, displaying the reflexes of a seasoned martial artist and the flexibility of a gymnast- even if she had taken his form and he wasn't the most graceful of spirits, she leaped over his clumsy outstretched arm and continued to race towards the door.

He groaned. _Dammit_. "STOP!" He yelled, firing his own bolt of nightmare sand to block the doorway. The sand, obeying the whim of its master, stitched itself into a net of pulsating strands faster than the double could blink and before she realized what she was doing she ran full-tilt right into the web which closed around her like a snare around a rabbit and Pitch thought that was the end of it.

Boy was he wrong. The double fought like a demon, even though she was wrapped up like a silkworm in his nightmare sand. As Pitch raised his head he could see her fighting it violently from the inside. Occasionally a foot or a fist broke through but the sand compensated for it and covered the break in the net. But it was the screaming that was the worst. It was a horrible mixture of his and her voice, ranting and screaming like a banshee. It caused shivers to run up his spine, and he didn't get shivers very often.

Pitch rose to his feet, trying to quell the rising fear inside his heart as he walked towards the floating mass of sand. He hoped that he could reason with her, maybe like this she would finally calm down and listen to reason.

As he drew nearer to the ball of sand, the fighting double within grew less and less violent and the yells began to falter until he stopped right in front of it and they finally ceased altogether. The net hung in the air, completely motionless.

Pitch sighed, not sure what to say. Did he apologize? Did he yell at her? He wasn't sure. Then finally, after a long moment he said slowly, "I'm... sorry it had to come to this. I didn't want to hurt you. I still don't."

The double- if he looked close enough he thought he could actually see it huddled between the threads, didn't speak or move.

He reached up and rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Look, will you please just speak to me? I'm sorry that I put you in here, but I'm not sorry that I won't let you just run off into the wilderness of the world to get _hurt_, or to meet some dangerous spirits and become a _slave _or- or _worse_, to not be believed in at _all!_" Pitch had lost full control of his emotions by now and was back in full-on rant-mode. Why was she so damn stubbornly dead-set on leaving? What had the outside to offer her that he didn't?! "You don't know how painful that is child because you've never been out in the world!"

Not a single sound nor shadow of movement penetrated the sand.

Pitch exhaled a long, steady breath, trying to relax himself. "I'm not trying to scare you," he told her gently, putting a hand to the net and letting it all fall away beneath his fingertips. It dropped the double as gently as it could onto the rocky ground. The double's body tipped sideways and he had to quickly shoot a bolt of nightmare sand that wrapped around her head and cushioned her from impact as it hit the floor and dissipated as he snapped his fingers.

Pitch quickly knelt at the double's side, checking for signs of her being unconscious. Her heart rate was slow, her breathing steady, and she was not moving an inch. All good, common signs of unconsciousness. He went to pick her up and carry her back to her bed but as soon as he touched her she erupted back to life and started swinging every which way.

Pitch leaped backwards to avoid several blows. _Damn she's good, _he thought with slight admiration as the double jumped to his feet and, not even taking a second to look around, bolted for the door.

The Boogeyman sighed. _Here we go again. _He sent another net of sand towards the door but she had known it was coming and simply barreled through it, breaking the strands like butterfly net and racing down the hall. Pitch gritted his teeth and slowly got to his feet, lamenting his beaten and battered frame. _This _was gonna _hurt_. After waiting a few seconds to get his bearings, he took off after her, following the sounds of his footsteps and hoping that his barriers would hold.

Time appeared to stand still as he chased the double all around the caves, only getting brief glimpses of it- a flash of robe here, a foot ducking around the corner there, before she would dart off down another corridor in hopes of _finally _finding a way out. He called out to her many many times, but she continued to ignore him. The only responses he got were derisive laughter and yells of frustration.

He briefly contemplated calling Onyx to assist him in corralling her, but then he shook his head and thought better of it. She obviously wasn't a fan of the Nightmares, so bringing them out again to hunt her down like a fox would not do well for the situation. With a resigned sigh, he took off once again after her. She was starting to slow down finally and as they both raced through the caverns, shining walls flashing past him too quickly for him to even register where he was.

By the time he finally cornered her, she had made it all the way up to the entrance and he found her banging on the barrier, screaming for it to let her through and when she was rebuked that just made her all the more angrier. Pitch forced himself to be silent as the shadow he used to be as he slowly crept up on her, watching her beat against the invisible barrier whih only appeared as a dark haze when her fists made contact. As he got closer, his heart started to drop and he felt pity for the child.

"You know," he said quietly, once he was only about a two yards away. "The only thing you're going to get if you keep doing that is a broken hand."

The double spun around to face him and Pitch could've sworn he saw its face flicker, jumping between his face and hers. Her hands were balled into fists and Pitch saw his own eyes reflecting back at him, gleaming with anger, fear and- was that a glimmer of excitement hidden somewhere in there?

"Let...me...out!" She snarled, staring him straight in the eyes with no wavering whatsoever.

Pitch shook his head. He could almost see her face, hidden behind his as if his face were just a papery mask which may be blown away by the slightest gust of wind. It was a surreal experience. "I can't do that." He told her. "Now, come to me and we'll go back down to your room and talk about this."

It let out a groan of utmost contempt and folded his arms. "You just don't get it, do you?! I'm..._not_...staying here."

"Just stop this," Pitch told her, taking a few steps forward. The double was tense, ready to strike if need be so he kept his tone calm and collected. "Please. There's no where you can run. I know we've both made a few mistakes, but can't we just sit down and talk about this like civilized people?"

She didn't respond. He could see the double's gaze flicking back and forth, from him to the dark walls on either side of her, then back to him. She grinned a familiar vampire-like grin.

Pitch's eyes widened. _Oh shit. She __**wouldn't**__!_

She did. As soon as he thought it, she threw herself to the left and straight into the dark shadows that rested complacently behind and in the rock. She dissapeared in a whirl of darkness and shadows, into the void.

Pitch stood there for a second, frozen in a mixture of shock and fear for her safety. Then he shook his head. It was no use worrying about her, not when he could go in after her! And this time, he would need the horse.

He turned around and put his hands to his lips, hollering in the loudest voice he could possibly muster which echoed down the corridor in rolling waves of sound. "ONYX!" He tried to keep the fear out of his voice but it was practically impossible. He would not lie, he was scared for her. Hell, he was scared for _anybody _that got trapped inside the shadow realm. It was a hellish, cold, dark maze of a place that he had to travel through almost every day, and even after ten thousand years of experience dodging the shades that lived there who tried without fail every time he went there to drag him down to join them, he _still _didn't like it.

"Oh gods I'm _never _going to hear the end of this." He grumbled, sending out a wave of telepathic energy that was sure to get the Nightmare's attention. "Onyx!" Dammit where _was _that horse?!

A few seconds later- though it felt like an eternity to him, he heard the rapid hoof beats of his chief Nightmare and he sighed in relief. _About damn time._

She came around the corner like a hurricane, running frantically towards her master and she almost trampled him into the dust but, thankfully she realized where her master was and skidded to a halt. Her hooves ground down into the rock and produced a sound reminiscent of pennies scraped across a plate of steel and Pitch winced. Damn that was a horrible sound.

_What's wrong Pitch? _She asked, glancing around for the danger that her master had obviously called her to help combat. _Where's the trouble? _Her tail was thrashing anxiously and Pitch could see from the way she stomped her hoof and shifted her body idly. But he wasn't in the mood for chit-chat.

"Never-mind that now Onyx," he said, grabbing hold of her mane and yanking himself up onto her back. "We need to get into the shadow realm, now! I'll explain on the way!" He spurred her with his heels and Onyx, knowing better than to push it, started galloping straight towards the wall and the shadow she had disappeared into.

They hit the shadow and Pitch gritted his teeth as Onyx thundered through, coming out on the other side of the gateway almost instantaneously. It was like leaping, face-first, into a lake full of glass and ice. The utterly stunning cold bit at his skin, tearing little bits of flesh off as their customary tribute for allowing him to pass through, but the cuts and open wounds were quickly healed by Pitch's sand.

_So, _Onyx said as they barreled through the darkness. Her golden eyes mere pinpricks in the din but they were still bright enough to light the way. _What are we doing here?_

Pitch continued to focus on the space ahead. Almost within the first seconds of them entering the shadow-realm he felt the familiar tugging of the demonic shadows that lurked in the dark as they latched onto his arms and tried to yank him off his perch. He gave the one that had attached itself to his foot a good kick and it flew away, cursing him in the vile chattering language of the dark things.

"Long story short, she learned how to morph into my form and tried to use my nightmare sand to escape. I chased her, she dove into a shadow to escape me. Now we have to find her before she's devoured by the shades."

He expected Onyx's initial look upon hearing the news to be surprise, but instead she let out a whinny of amusement and snorted. _Well_, _I told you she was going to escape at the first opportunity she got. Didn't I tell you that? _

Pitch glowered at her. "Yes," he hissed, scanning the surroundings for any sign of her. "But I didn't expect it to be into the shadow realm!"

Onyx have another derisive snort. _**Of course **__you didn't expect that! But she did run into the shadow realm and now she's gone and endangered herself, all because YOU wouldn't just let her go! Maybe if you had trusted her a bit instead of keeping her locked up in here like it was Alcatraz-_

"Just shut up and run," Pitch snarled. "We need to find her dammit!"

Though, in truth he was already mentally berating himself. It had seemed so simple just a few days ago! So utterly _simple! _Of course he had known she would escape again- or, at least _try _to, and he had also known that in light of her last attempt, she would be more careful and more sneaky about it. What he hadn't banked on, however, was how she had tried to escape. Or, more accurately, _where to_.

_And now I'm running around in a hostile environment, trying to reach her before she gets devoured. Fan-bloody-tastic. And that's assuming she survived stepping through the veil in the first place!_

As much as he hated to admit it, her not having made it was a very real possibility. The vale- the gateway which separated the planes of light and shadow, was one of the most volatile and dangerous ways to travel known to humans or spirits. If the soul of the spirit of human that went through wasn't strong enough, the vale would consume it and use its energy to expand the realm which, in itself had practically _no _definitions.

The vast expanse of shadows and darkness was damn-near unending, stretching out in all directions. There was very little light, as one might expect from a place dubbed 'the shadow realm', practically no gravity- which made traveling much easier than conventional means, and the only thing that broke the monotony of the different shades of black and grey were the occasional pillars of stone and very irritating staircases that cropped up at the most inopportune moments, floating in mid-air and occasionally crumbling.

For some really weird, sentimental reason, it kind of reminded him of his caves. Except that there were walls in his caves. And floors. And most of the inhabitants of his caves wouldn't try anything to eat your soul and turn you into one of them.

_Well, _Pitch reflected as they rode through crowds of writhing black masses. _Not __**recently**__. _

All in all, the shadow realm was not a nice place to be and Pitch would rather die than abandon anyone to their filth. But it did provide a service to him and, though he abhorred the shadow realm and everything about it, he continued to use it as his means of travel. That's not to say the demons were too happy about it.

_Speaking of which, _Pitch thought, grinding his heels deep into Onyx's sides and wrenching her to the left, dodging a cluster of shadows that were trying to block his path. Their black teeth gleamed in the light of Onyx's eyes. They resembled Fearlings slightly, but they didn't have their gangly arms or their wispy genie-esque lower body. Basically, they were clouds of smoke in a vaguely humanoid shape with teeth and beady black eyes that could spot out a light to be snuffed at a thousand yards.

_Vile demons. _Pitch close-lined another that was trying to latch on to his arm, forcing it to dissipate but it simply re-formed a few yards away, snarling and chittering like an angry squirrel. One of these days he was going to have to eradicate the lot of them. But for now, he had a much bigger problem on his mind.

"Do you see any sign of her yet?" He urged the horse, thinking, _it shouldn't be this hard dammit! She's got to be the only thing that has color in this place!_

Onyx scanned the surrounding area and was about to respond in the negative, but before her thoughts filtered through Pitch's brain a shrill scream tore through the air like a banshee's wail. The Boogeyman's gaze snapped towards where the sound originated, but he saw nothing.

"Onyx, go!" He yelled and spurred her. She reared up and lunged forward, her powerful body tearing through the smokey demons that tried in vain to block her way. "I heard her, she's there! Hurry!"

Onyx obeyed her master, flying through the darkness towards the continuous sound of screaming that made his heart twist with anguish. As they got closer she was beginning to smell the fear radiating off of the girl like a nauxious miasma of lavender and bitter almonds, and she knew that if she was smelling it her master was smelling it too.

_She's absolutely terrified. _Onyx said, almost to herself but Pitch answered her anyway.

"I know. I know." He said, wishing he could take the words back as soon as he said them. "But at least it lets us know she's still alive."

Onyx chuckled. _Your sense of gallows humor is a constant source of amusement to me. But really, can you at least try to look on the bright side of things?_

"What bright side?" Pitch snorted. "We're in the shadow realm dear."

They were close. _So soooo close. _He could feel the terror permeating the air like a perfume and when he squinted, he could just make out a lumpy shape surrounded by shifting smokey figures that whirled and danced around her. Onyx saw her as soon as Pitch did and she started running even faster. Her hoof beats echoed like thunderclaps and when the shadows heard her, they all turned as one to look at the on-coming horse and rider.

They didn't have a chance. Onyx crashed through the cloud like a thunderbolt and scattered the mass of shades to the four winds, revealing a familiar head of bright purple hair and a huddled form curled in on itself in a tight ball, hidden underneath the layers of darkness.

Pitch pulled Onyx to a stop and quickly dismounted her. After casting a quick bubble of black nightmare sand over them and setting Onyx to guard and repel the shades that were already re-grouping and trying to attack them, he raced to the girl's side and in a matter of seconds was kneeling in front of her.

"Are you alright?" He asked urgently, his eyes moving over her to see signs of injury. His eyes widened as he took in the damage. Strips of her flesh had been torn away and there were marks all over her, some appearing as bite marks and others seeming to be just scratches from some massive cat's claws. Her hair was missing chunks as if they had been torn straight from the scalp and there were bloodied streaks that he could see through the tears in her jeans and running down her arms in massive streams.

She was crying- sobbing really, into her hands which covered her face. Tears dripped down through her fingers and floated in the air for a little bit before slowly falling through the air into the great vastness below them.

Pitch felt an overwhelming wave of paternal energy washing over him and he reached up to touch her face but she jerked away with a yelp. "NO! No, get away from me!"

He tried not to flinch. _Oh my gods she's so scared. _If he didn't get her out of here she was going to have a heart attack. "Hey, it's me, Pitch. It's alright." He said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Her head snapped up and their gazes locked for a second. In that second, Pitch saw an emerald whirlwind of pain, anger, sadness, hatred and yes, fear. He couldn't help himself. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She didn't fight. "It's alright," he told her softly, letting her lean her head on his collar bone. "It's alright. I'm here now. You're safe."

_Not for long you aren't, _Onyx cut in.

Pitch glanced up. Shades were on top of the bubble, scratching and gnawing at it, trying to get at them. Their obsidian needle-like jaws gleamed and he gritted his teeth. It was going to be a bloody battle, just to get out of here!

He pulled away from the girl, holding her at arms' length. "Listen, I know you're upset," he said in as calm a voice as he could manage, under the circumstances. "But I'm going to need you to pay attention for a moment, alright?"

She sniffed, then nodded and said in a shaky voice, "OK."

He nodded. "Good. Good. Now, as you might've noticed we're not in the safest of places at the moment, and it would be good for us to vacate said place as soon as possible. You with me do far?"

She nodded and a small smile quirked the edge of her lips.

He smiled back. "Good. And to do that, I'm going to need you, when I give the word, to get on Onyx and hold on to her tightly. I'll be behind you the entire time, and we're going to ride out of here, hopefully with as little bloodshed as possible. And when I get you back home I'll fix you up, and then I swear I will let you leave." The words flowed so smoothly across his tongue and, for a moment he contemplated taking them back. But then he saw the hope in her eyes and realized that he couldn't. She needed to be free. He took a deep breath, then asked with a confident smile, "Sound good?"

She gave him a hesitant little smile, then nodded. "S-sounds good." She said.

Pitch chose to over-look the small stutter of fear in her voice and nodded. "Alright then." He turned to face the Nightmare, switching effortlessly from kind and caring to the tone Tooth had come to affectionately call his 'general voice'. "How bad is it Onyx?" He asked, surveying for himself. He couldn't even see Onyx now; there were so many shadows curled around the bubble of nightmare sand, each thrashing and writhing and chittering, creating a massive cacophony that almost made Pitch's ears split.

Onyx snorted. _It's bad. I don't think they're going go like you coming in here for a while Pitch. Looks like you're going to have to learn to walk like the rest of us pedestrians. Or beg a few snow globes off the jolly fat man._

"As moon as my witness I will never EVER ask North to use one of those death-traps ever again." Pitch replied flatly, trying to judge the distance between them and her from just the sound of her voice. Probably three feet, maybe less. But could they make it? _Onyx, listen to me. _He spoke to the horse using their link. The shadows couldn't hear his thoughts and if they couldn't hear their plan, that might present an advantage. And they could use any advantages they were given right now. _I'm going to make a run for it in a minute. Be ready to take the girl. I'll fight off whatever shades try to grab onto us, then I'll jump on behind her and you'll get us the hell out of here. _

He didn't get a reply back, aside from some disembodied yelling and whinnying as she fought off the few shades that were bold enough to strike out at her.

He sighed. _I hope she heard me, _he thought as he turned back to the girl. She wasn't crying any more, which was good. Though he could see her eyes still glistening with residual tears. "Listen, I need you to get up and get ready to move, OK? We'll only have a short time to do this and I need you to be ready."

She nodded resolutely, trying to look strong but Pitch could see that she was shaking. Pitch decided to take pity on her and stood, then offered her his hands. She nodded gratefully and used him as a brace to pull herself up. She smiled. "Ready."

"Alright. On three. One," Pitch glanced in the direction of Onyx. He could still hear her yelling and hear the stomp of her hooves. "Two..." He could feel her tensing up. Good. She was ready to run. He slipped his hand into hers, to make sure she wouldn't get left behind. "Three!"

He bolted, she followed. Her hand was sweaty and as they pushed through the shadows he had to fight to keep a strong grip on it. The shades, who had been held back by the web of nightmare sand but had now been let loose, immediately lunged towards him and started scratching and biting as much as they could.

"Shit! GO, GO GO!" He yelled, pushing her up in front of him and towards Onyx. He could see her just mere feet away, thrashing and kicking up a storm as the demons surrounded her. But she was holding her own. "Don't stop, don't try to fight them off just go!"

She obeyed, racing towards the horse. Pitch followed her and as soon as they reached her side he grabbed the girl underneath the arm pits and hauled her up onto Onyx's back. He tried to be as gentle as he could, but the fact was they were running through their life.

As soon as he heard a familiar thump that indicated the girl was seated on her mount he swung up behind her and, not even taking a minute to secure himself, Pitch spurred Onyx and yelled, "GET US OUT OF HERE!"

Onyx needed no further encouragement. She reared up on her powerful hind legs and leaped forward, clearing the throng of demon shadows in one bound and clearing the way for her to race towards freedom.

Pitch, who was used to having Onyx climbing through the sky and then dropping into a nose-dive on a regular basis, took her speed in stride and leaned forward a little to compensate. The girl, on the other hand, wasn't as experienced and as Onyx rose and then fell, she leaned back and was almost jerked from the lack of saddle. She let out a scream and her arms started to flail wildly but Pitch, who had been in this kind of situation before, calmly reached around with both hands and tucked her hand back into Onyx's mane.

"It'll be fine," he whispered in her ear, resting his hands on top of hers to keep that from happening again. "Just trust me. I promise I will get you out of here safe and sound."

_And just how are you going to do that? _Onyx asked testily as she thundered past the waves upon waves of shadows that were coming for them. _After that display, the only way we'll be able to get out of here in one piece is with a miracle! Or hadn't you thought of that your kingship?_

_Oh shut up. _Pitch grumbled. _I have a plan. Just keep running. _

"What is she talking about?!" The girl yelled over the screams of the rapidly encroaching demons as Onyx strove forward, using her powerful head to disperse the few shades that tried to head her off.

Pitch winced. _Right, Onyx hadn't been using telepathy when she said that. Dammit! _

_You should tell her! _Onyx continued._ If we're going to dissipate at least you should-_

"Never mind!" He shouted, simultaneously yelling at Onyx to telepathically _stop talking! I'll figure this out!_ "Just keep your head down and keep your arms tucked in!"

Getting _into _the shadow realm was relatively easy. Getting out... yeah that was a bit harder.

The principle behind the shadow realm- from what Pitch understood, was much like the principle behind the whirlpool. You got sucked in one way, went around and around for a bit and, if you were lucky, got spat back out the other side. But Pitch, because of his affiliation with the shadows, merely side-stepped those normally straight forward rule of realm-jumping by going around the realm itself and using it as a conduit to transport him from shadow to shadow, all across the world.

But sadly, that wasn't going to work this time. And that was assuming you were lucky enough to be spat back out in the first place and weren't taken into the darkness to gradually be broken down and then absorbed by the realm. Or worse yet, pulled into the void itself!

He shuddered shuddered slightly. The void. The nothingness. The proverbial doldrums and true Boogeyman for all spirits that knew of it. Eternally seeking souls and energy of both human and spirits to absorb and then recycle back into the world in the form of new life. Even though eventually everything was pulled into the void in its proper time, it was still a horrible prospect. An eternity of nothingness, with no sense of yourself or anything around you. Unending darkness.

Pitch shook his head. _None of that matters now! I will not let her get pulled into the void dammit!_ Gritting his teeth and flushing all fears of the void from his thoughts, he narrowed his eyes and scanned the darkness once more, spying through the constantly moving shadows as if his eyes were equipped with radar. _Where is it?! Where is it?! Dammit it's got to be here somewhere!_

He was searching for even the slightest hint of light. A single slit in the fabric of the realm, leading back to the world where light and shadows co-enside, would be enough for them to pass through. He hadn't needed to use a portal like this before and wasn't even sure if it would work with passengers. Hell, he didn't even know _where _the portal would put them; he just had to hope to the moon that it would put him back in his home.

Pitch was about to ask Onyx if she saw anything when suddenly, out of the blue a single glimmer out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. "Onyx, there!" He yelled, wrenching her around in the direction of the light. As they turned he could see the hoard of angry shades racing after them. "Hurry, we don't have much longer!"

Onyx saw the glimmer and doubled up her speed. She could smell her fellow nightmares through the rip already. That meant they were close.

Pitch grinned, keeping his gaze fixed on the rip. It was just floating there like a eight foot tall glowing toothpick. The light that shone through it was multicolored and very beautiful. And, if he looked just right he could _almost _see the world beyond the gateway. He urged Onyx onward with a gentle but firm spur with his heels and calmly told the girl, "We're about to go through a portal. It might be a little jarring, but I want you to just close your eyes and think about the caves. Alright? Picture your room, as clearly as you can and with any luck we'll slip through the veil and make it back safely."

He felt her nodding stiffly. Then, in a timid voice she asked, "What if we don't make it back?"

Pitch closed his eyes. They were nearing ever closer. "We will," he promised her. "Trust me, we will."

She didn't respond back but as they reached the slit in the fabric of the realm and Onyx leaped through the gap which could've been no more than three inches wide, Pitch felt her hands tightly clenching his and he smiled, happy that he had provided some security to her. Even if this might be the last thing he ever did.

They erupted through the sliver of light like a fish leaping out of water. As soon as Onyx hit the portal Pitch found himself blinded and he was sure the girl- if she hadn't followed his advice, was in the same situation. He tightened his grip on her hands, keeping her steady while also effectively steering Onyx and making sure she didn't crash into something as he blinked the stars from his vision.

"Stop!" He yelled and Onyx, realizing that they had gotten through, slowed to a slow canter and then eventually stopped. Pitch took a few seconds to breathe and recollect himself before he turned his attention on the girl. "Are you alright? Can you still see?"

She didn't stir from her hunched position and Pitch feared the veil had taken her. But then she groaned and lifted her head groggily. "Where..." She mumbled, lolling her head from side to side and setting her hair swaying.

"Shh," Pitch told her gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. "It's OK. We're safe now."

She turned her head towards him and, purple hair hanging in her face, obscuring all of her features but one of her eyes which was squinting at him curiously, asked, "Where...are we?"

Good question. Pitch glanced around and was delighted to find himself in one of the corridors that led straight to his living room. One of the off-shoots that he never fully excavated and had left alone after the Nightmare war, it was meant to be a tunnel leading to the Warren for strategic purposes- since his first tunnel had been blocked by Bunnymund, but he had never finished it and here it sat, waiting for its usefulness to finally be realized.

Pitch smiled and said the two words he had never expected to say to anyone. "We're home."

XXXXXXXXX

It was a simple matter of getting her back to her room. Onyx graciously allowed Pitch and the girl the last few hundred yards to the door where Pitch disembarked and gently slid her off the horse's back. He carried her, bridal-style, through the door and into the room, laying her down on her bed and then leaving briefly to gather medical supplies to treat her injuries.

She strongly objected when he made to leave, but Pitch promised her solemnly that he would return as swiftly as possible and that in the meantime, Onyx would protect her. After a lot of coercing and a little help from his dreamsand, she finally agreed and Pitch was able to slip away. But, honoring his promise he returned will all haste and every single bandage in his medical supplies kit.

Then began the tumultuous and incredibly draining business of actually _tending _to her wounds. To put it mildly, she didn't make it easy. Every time he put a salve on the raw areas where strips of skin had been yanked away, she hissed and jerked away like it was acid he was putting on there and not antibiotic.

After the third time she did this he sat back in exasperation and told her sternly, "Look, either you do this or I'm going to knock you out so that I might finally get some peace and do it anyway!"

She had given him one of her signature death-glares, but had consented and had toughed it out the rest of the way without too much complaining. She cursed up a storm though. Every time he did something she didn't like- putting on salve, bending her arm the worng way, laughing at her, she would start swearing at him in a multitude of colorful languages. And some of them even he didn't know!

"What exactly is a _Ik laat een scheet in jouw richting_?" He asked, highly amused by her latest verbal exclamation.

She glared at him. "It's Dutch." She said shortly.

Pitch nodded. "Yes, but what does it mean?"

She told him and he busted up laughing. He hemmed and hawed like a donkey for a good five minutes, slapping his knee and filling the room with his throaty accent-tinged laugh. By the time he had laughed himself silly and was leaning back, still chuckling as he wiped a tear form the corner of his eye, even she was smiling.

They finished up the bandages in a matter of minutes and when they were done, Pitch asked if she wanted anything. She shook her head. He persisted. "Are you sure? Water? Something to eat? You must've been drained to hell after your ordeal."

She sighed tiredly and, after a few more minutes of his prodding she finally admitted that she might like a glass of water. Pitch immediately went out to fetch it but when he came back, bearing a tray with a huge pitcher and glass, he found that she had drifted off to sleep.

He stood in the doorway, smiling as he watched her snoring away. She was utterly exhausted. Putting the tray down gently on the table beside her bed so as not to clink the glass and wake her, he walked silently closer and came to stand beside her, staring down at her fondly. All of his previous anger, all of his pain, had simply drifted away when he had realized she was safe. He bore her no ill will. On the contrary. Nearly all of his emotions right now were geared towards her well-being and safety.

After standing there for a few minutes he spoke quietly. "Onyx..." He whispered to the horse who had been standing silently in the background for the last few hours, doing nothing but chuckling when the girl's cursing amused her. "I don't know if I'll be able to tell the others about her."

Onyx sidled up to him with an absolutely puzzled look in her eyes. _Why not?_

Pitch shrugged. "I don't know. I just...I don't want to see her get hurt again. She doesn't believe me about how dangerous a world it is out there, she doesn't even believe me about being a spirit! She takes reckless risks, gambling everything- even her safely on just getting out of here, even when I've supplied everything she might possibly want and even though I know she should be out there, with our own kind learning and growing, I just don't want to see her kill herself and if it was something I could've prevented I will _never _forgive-"

His tone was growing louder and more frantic by the syllable until finally he was so loud that Onyx saw the girl squirm slightly in her sleep and she kicked her master in the shin to shut him up. _Knock that off! _She snarled. _You're gonna wake her up if you don't keep it down, and I'm pretty sure you don't want that._

Pitch, who was rubbing his legs and had been about to swear at her for the kick, quickly glanced at the girl in the bed, checking to see if she was in fact still asleep. And, once he surmised that she was sleeping soundly, he sighed.

"Thank you Onyx." He said in a hushed voice. "I'm afraid I let my tongue get carried away."

She nodded. That's alright. _As long as you don't wake her up, you're good_. She told him. _And as for the worrying, that's normal when you become a parent. Or for anyone taking care of another person, really._

Pitch's eyes widened. "P-parent?" He stammered. He had never even considered it that way but, now that she mentioned it...

She nodded impatiently. _Well of course. You're basically taking this girl in, treating her like your own and trying to help her become a better person. If that's not being a parent I don't know what is._

Pitch nodded, letting it sink in. He was...a parent. An adoptive parent sure, but a parent none the less. He had taken her in, clothed her, cleaned her up and had tried his hardest to keep her out of trouble. He basically was her surrogate parent.

_Maybe I can adopt her, like Sera adopted Jack! _He thought, his heart hammering with excitement in his chest. His eyes widened as the possibilities hit him_. I can be her family! And maybe Tooth, if she lets her! Oh, this'll be perfect! I can teach her how to be a spirit, she'll meet the rest of the Guardians and maybe even Manny, and he can tell her just how and why she became a spirit! Oh, this is all so perfect I can't believe it's-_

Then he remembered his promise to her and all his hopes sank. Crushed, by the harsh fist of reality.

"Onyx...I can't be her parent." He said, hanging his head and turning away.

Onyx tilted her head to the side, raising an eyebrow. _And why the hell not? _She asked. _You've done everything for her since she got here to be considered a first class parent! OK, so you lost her a few times_. She amended when he shot her a look_. Big deal! Human kids get lost all the time! _

"It's not that Onyx," he told her mournfully, closing his eyes. "It's that..." He took a deep breath. "I promised her I would let her leave. After she was done healing. I promised I would let her leave and that I wouldn't come after her."

Onyx rolled her eyes_. Now why did you have to go and do a stupid thing like that? _She asked, flaring her nostrils in irritation.

Pitch sighed. "You didn't see her, Onyx." He told her, turning away to look back at the girl's sleeping face. "You didn't see the hope in her eyes when I promised she could be free. She doens't like being kept underground, Onyx. She's a free spirit, just like Jack."

Onyx snorted. _If she's anything like the winterbringer, you're in big trouble my friend. _She told him flatly.

Pitch couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his throat as she continued.

_But really, it's your choice Pitch. Yours and hers. You can let her go and hope that she makes it out there like Jack did, or you can keep her locked away here without any other spiritual contact and hope that she doesn't grow up despising you and everything you stand for. _

The Boogeyman sighed tiredly. "Well when you put it that way..." There wasn't much choice there, was there? "I guess I'll talk with her about this in the morning." He said, turning away. But there was still something bothering him as he headed towards the door. "Onyx, stay by her." He told the nightmare automatically as he opened the door with one hand while the other slipped inside his pocket idly. "I'll be by in a few hours to check...on...her?" His sentence trailed away as he frowned, glancing down at his pocket. Something was in there. Something thin, flat and edged.

He pulled it out and discovered the notebook that the girl had handed him, just before her ill-fated escape attempt. He glanced at the still sleeping girl, then back at the book. Maybe it had her name in it! He went to open it, but hesitance stayed his hand. He had given her this book as a gesture of good faith. Looking in it might lose some of the rare trust they had between them.

Then again, he thought, turning the book over in his hands. If she gave it to me, knowing that she might not be back she obviously meant for me to have it.

He opened it carefully and, right off the bat his eyes were drawn to a single name, written in grey across the top of the page. Meggie.

"So that's her name." He whispered softly to himself, elation upon finally knowing flaring up inside his chest and making his hart swell with warmth.

_What? _Onyx moved over to him. _Is that the book you gave her? _She asked, looking at it.

He nodded. "Yes. And she's written her name, along with a note to me." His eclipse eyes quickly skimmed over the note and his facial expressions went through an amusing reel of changes- going from amusement to annoyance, to sadness to fear and then finally to blatent astonishment.

When he finally finished the note, he looked up from the book at the sleeping girl. "Meggie." He whispered, testing out her name on his tongue. "Her name is Meggie."

_Meggie. _Onyx repeated, also testing it out. _Nice name. Doesn't __**quite **__fit her, but I guess it'll do. _

Pitch nodded, staring at her calm, peaceful face. "Yeah." He murmured. "I guess it'll do."


	12. Home's Where The Harp Is

**Hello my lovelies! I'm so glad to read all of these wonderful reviews and hear what you all think about the story so far. We're starting to get into the really deep stuff now, but I promise it gets a lot more light-hearted in the next chapter. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

From the second journal of Meggie, entry the twenty-third

_It's taken seven days. Seven hellish, miserable, tormenting days of hiding from the Boogeyman while I wait for my wounds to heal. _

_Well, hiding might be a bit of an exaggeration. I suppose you could say I want to distance myself from him. If only for his own good. _

_Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the fact that he saved me from those shadows and didn't hold a single bloody grudge towards me- which is either really kind or really really stupid on his part, I'm not sure. -but I still don't trust him enough to keep his promise. He is getting far too attached to me, for his own good and mine! And if I'm going to be leaving soon I _do not _want him getting any more attached to me than he already is! It's bad enough I'm already starting to think of him as a friend. But if he starts to think of me as anything more I'm gonna be in a heap of trouble. _

I paused, rotating my wrist. I had been sitting there for a good forty-five minutes, writing what I certainly hoped to me my last journal entry in this place.

After seven days of sitting here in my room, my wounds from the battle of the shadows- hey, don't judge me. I like to name these little skirmishes. -were finally healed and it was time for me to leave.

In all honesty, I probably could've left about three days earlier. My wounds weren't that extensive, and most of them were fully healed without leaving so much as a scar within those first two days. My bruises stuck around, but they didn't hurt much. The only thing that really kept me around for those three extra days was my own hesitance. My fear that if I tried to escape again, he would stop me. And that if I failed, I wouldn't _ever _be able to leave.

Plus, those three extra days gave me a little time to prepare myself. And not just for the escape. I also needed to prepare myself for what awaited me when I actually did get out.

_Speaking of which... _I put my pencil back onto the paper and began writing again.

_I have no idea what I'm going to face when I get back to Cupcake's. Scorn, anger, probably. But past that... Hell I don't even know if she will want me to stay once I get back. All I can truly do is hope and pray to whatever or whoever listens to me that she doesn't throw me out on my ass and then I will truly have nowhere to go._

I sighed. It was no use talking like that now. Not when I was so close.

After the Boogeyman brought me back home- gods above I hate using that word. It's already making me tear up -he did his little charade of playing doctor, which hurt like hell and drove me to spit out some of the most foul curses I had learned. But, in the end he managed to fix me up well enough and then I think I fell asleep because when I opened my eyes again, I was laying half-way off the bed and listening to a horse snickering.

I raised my head, glaring at the horse. "Glad that I amuse you."

She whinnied and came forward, watching me as I pulled myself back onto the bed and laid there, breathing heavily from the excursion. _You never cease amusing me child_. She replied, pulling back her lips and giving me that creepy smile. _Especially your stupid decisions and your constant cursing. _

I swore at her in german. She chuckled and I spat, "I'm not here to make you laugh Onyx."

Onyx's expression became serious. _No, you're not. You're here so that you can heal and when you've completed that task, then Pitch will let you go home. _

She had then proceeded to fill me in on the typical information. That her master was in the library, consulting some new books on what type of spirit I might be, that he would be by soon to give me breakfast and check on my wounds, and that she, Onyx, was still charged with the duty of protecting me. And this time she made it quite clear that she was not going to leave me alone, even when I slept.

And she kept to that for the next seven days. The Boogeyman came in, gave me food and whatever puny news he had learned about me- which lessened and lessened with each passing day, I stayed on my bed and all the while she remained, standing silently in the shadows. Watching.

Well...not _all _of the time.

About four days into my recovery, Pitch came in to talk. He asked me some of the typical questions he had been asking me the last few days- how did I get my name, did I have a last name, and could I remember another name were among these. -and then he did something interesting. He offered me a bargain.

"If you promise not to escape," was his opening line that night. He stared at me with focused, calculating eyes, watching my every twitch as he spoke. "I will allow you a few hours each day until you are fit to travel to explore my home and learn all it has to offer."

That caught my attention and I looked up, eager to get out of this room. Even for just a little while. Then he raised his finger and my hope plummeted yet again.

"But," he continued. "There will be rules. And I will expect you to follow them."

I rolled my eyes. "Alright," I told him. "Shoot."

He nodded. "Very well. First, you do have permission to use my television." He started ticking off rules with his fingers but all I could hear was blah blah blah. "You can touch some of my belongings, within reason, but you must ask permission first. If I allow you to roam my caves Onyx will be with you at all times,"

Blah blah blah, blah blah blahblahblah, blah blah.

"And you can even make your own meals for the rest of your stay using my kitchen if you would like."

I shrugged. "OK, cool."

So he let me out of my room for a couple of hours each day. I was forced to rely on him to keep me from falling over and I really didn't like that, but I forced myself to deal with it and carried on. He showed me his living room with a giant TV and adjoining kitchen, the fridge which was positively stocked with food, and a wide space with tons of strange pieces of equipment that I didn't know the first thing about but he later explained to me was a gym.

Unfortunately, I started actually getting interested in this stuff and soon had to force myself not to jump up with an eager smile when he came around for another one of our little outings. I knew I couldn't allow myself to become more attached, but each time I saw him I felt like that was what I was doing.

I sighed, trying not to think about him as I began the next paragraph.

_I'm pretty sure at this point the Boogeyman has tried everything to get me to stay. He might not realize he's doing it, but he is. He's feeding me better food, talking to me more, letting me leave my room, using my name- which I'm pretty mad at myself for letting him find out as it just gived him another hold over me, but the worst thing is when he tries to talk about setting me free and helping me to become a better person. It truly does hurt inside every time I see a smile on his face because the hopefulness inside the both of us is just going to be crushed once I leave and nothing I do can stop it._

_I'm trying not to cry as I write this last journal entry which I am leaving for you to read, Pitch. Because I want you to know that this was just as hard for me as it is for you. But...I don't belong in a cave or underground. I belong out in the world where I can learn stuff on my own. I might need a teacher later, to help me through this but we both know it's not going to be you. _

_I wish I could say this in a nicer way but...I can't. I don't ever want to see you again. Please take this not as an insult. But more as a request of courtesy. Alright? I'm not saying this to be cruel or rude. I'm saying this because...well..._

The pencil was shaking in my hand. I couldn't go on. I sniffed, took a deep breath and spoke the words quietly to myself as I wrote them.

"_Because I'm afraid_."

There. It was done. The truth, at last. From there-on, it became much easier to write. I finished my goodbyes up in about five minutes, then finally put the pencil down and closed the book. I slipped the notebook in my pocket gingerly, afraid the words might jump out and burn me with their honesty.

When I looked back at the doorway I saw him there, standing stiffly at attention like a tin soldier and knew instantly why he had come. He wanted to escort me to the entrance of the caves. To see me off. A last goodbye before I was out of his life for good. Because he knew as well as I did that once I turned my back, I wasn't going to see him again if I could help it.

I stood, rising to my feet and took two quick steps towards him. Then I turned my head to look at Onyx who had been standing beside me the whole time. "You look out for yourself, eh Black Beauty?" I told her, winking. "Keep yourself and the Boogerman out of trouble."

Onyx tossed her head proudly. _Trouble, me? Wouldn't dream of it dear._

I chuckled and, with a single wave, turned back to him. "Let's go." I said shortly, brushing past him and out into the corridor. I was fighting hard to keep the tears from welling on my face.

He nodded and, without a sound, followed me. I led the way up the winding corridors and hallways, past the thousands of empty rooms and torchlit cacacombian hallways that resided in his home and the whole time, he didn't speak a word.

When we got to the end of the tunnel a few minutes later, I paused just before I was about to take my first step towards freedom. "I assume it's protected?" I asked, not turning around to look at him.

"It is." He moved up beside me and raised his hands. Instantly, a black barrier made of nightmare sand appeared. I stared at it, slightly in awe.

The fine web of strands, so much like the net he had snared me in the last fight were all writhing and connecting as if they were somehow alive. It reached from floor to ceiling on both sides of the cave entrance, leaving no room for any unwary traveler to slip through.

With a single flick of his wrist the barrier dissolved into black dust which then slithered up his arm and into his sleeve, just like the rest of his creepy sand.

Pitch nodded. "There. Now you can go."

I nodded my thanks and turned, not wanting to spend another second in this place than I had to. The opening before me let up through the ground and if I squinted I could just barely make out the start shining in an azure sky high above me.

Just as I was readying myself to start rising up through the tunnel using my flying, I felt something touch my shoulder. I turned around. It was him. He was standing barely a foot away, looking at me with one of the most blank expressions I have ever seen on a human being- er, spirit's face.

I rolled my eyes, trying to look exasperated when in reality I was trying not to cry. "What?" I demanded, shrugging him off.

He didn't seem to care. "I just wanted to tell you to be careful." He told me in a voice so monotone it matched his expression perfectly.

I thought about shrugging him off, but then decided not to. He deserved a bit more respect than that. "I will." I promised him, nodding solemnly. The movement of my body caused a slight shift and suddenly I felt something stabbing me in the side. I glanced down, then remembered the notebook that I had apparently almost forgotten to give him. I pulled the notebook out of my pocket and handed it to him. "Here." I said. "Keep it."

He took the book, apparently somewhat surprised and tucked it deep in that weird dress/robe things. And, with a single nod of respect he waved his hand. Suddenly I felt like thousands of little snakes were crawling across my feet. I looked down to see Nightmare sand pooling in a puddle around my feet but before I could object I heard his voice speaking calmly to me.

"It's just a way of getting you out of here and closer to the city." He told me soothingly when I tried to yank my feet up and out. "It's not going to hurt you and will dissolve once you reach the boundaries of my home."

This time I really did roll my eyes and sighed. "Alright, fine."

Pith nodded and tilted his chin upwards. The pool of sand followed his lead, collecting into a much tighter ring barely two feet in circumference and lifted me up high in the air. At first I had to struggle to secure my balance, but by the time I was no more than six feet in the air and half-way up the tunnel I seemed to have gotten the hang of it.

As I rose higher and higher, I noticed Pitch's eyes didn't leave me the entire time. Even when I was out of his sight and floating up through the tunnel into the wide world above I was sure I could feel his eclipse gaze, watching me like a hawk.

I smiled. "Goodbye." I called down to him. A final parting word. I didn't hear a response, but I'm sure he heard it. The unsaid words echoed in my head as I finally left the place I had slowly began to associate with home. _Goodbye, and thank you. _

I don't think I have ever appreciated anything more than the beauty of the night sky.

It has a gorgeous, mystical quality that practically hypnotizes you into gazing at it for hours and hours on end, exploring the galaxies and dancing through the stars with nothing but your eyes and your imagination. It's even more beautiful when there's a full moon out, like tonight. Creamy white light shone across the sky and down on me as I stood in the middle of a field where the sand had let me down and which bordered on the edge of the city of Burgess. I felt like it was bathing me in radiance. Gods above did it feel good.

Cool, warm night air crested across my face as soon as my head had cleared the edge of the tunnel, smelling of damp leaves and the slightly acrid scent of motor oil from the stubborn humans who insisted on driving around on errands instead of walking; it should've been considered criminal on a beautiful night like this and I was severely tempted to head over to the road and throw stones at the passing cars. But the peacefulness and serenity was too powerful and I didn't.

I had been underground so long that the snow had melted from the ground completely and now, in the light of the glowing orb hanging in the sky I could see gorgeous tulips peeking their multi-colored heads through the ground. They grew in wild patches ranging from two to six feet wide. Some of them grew at the base of trees, as if fairies had planted them.

I tilted my head in the direction of the closest patch of tulips. They didn't bloom at night, but if I inhaled deeply enough I could just barely discern the subtle hint of floral reference from the normal nighttime smells. I felt a beaming smile creeping across my face as the realization finally hit me.

I was free.

I couldn't help it. I laughed. It echoed in the small glade like a haunting melody, but I didn't care. I continued to laugh and laugh while simultaneously inhaling another lungful of fresh, fragrant air and expelling all that stagnant, minerally air from my lungs. All my sadness, all my fears, all my terrors had suddenly evaporated as the first laugh crossed my lips. I laughed until my sides began to ache and when I finally stopped laughing, I flopped down on the ground and laid there on the cool grass, staring up at the skies.

"It feels good to be free." I whispered to myself, lifting my arms up and relishing the scents of the rich, green grass. The feeling of it against my skin; like a hundred tiny pieces of silk were resting against my bare arms.

_I guess that's one thing that can be said for my time underground, _I thought, trying not to roll around in the grass like a little child, laughing and hugging myself because I was finally free! _My senses are much stronger than when I lived with Cupcake. _

It was true. I could see better, hear better, and could even smell better. I could practically taste everything that was going on within a ten foot radius. _Everything _was open to me. I could almost sense things as they happened- from a mouse becoming fast food for a barn owl that swooped down from a tree six feet to my left to traffic going on the main road several hundred yards away. It was...interesting, to say the least. Almost surreal.

I let out a happy sigh, sitting up and crossing my legs. The moonlight was flooding the area around me now, almost like a spotlight. I turned my face up to the moon and asked, "You watching me?"

I don't know who I was actually talking to, maybe the Man in the Moon as Cupcake called him. Or that other guy that Pitch always talked about; the one with the royal family that sounds like they're from Russia. Either way, I didn't really expect an answer. So I was slightly shocked when I heard a familiar voice that hadn't made itself known in quite some time speak up.

_Who're you talking to?_

I smiled, still looking up at the sky. "Hey there, long time to see."

_Indeed. Sorry about that; I've been busy._

I raised an eyebrow. "You're a little voice in my head. How could you be _busy?_"

_That's my concern. You didn't answer my question. Who're you talking to?_

I chuckled. "Man, you're uptight today." No response. That got me a little concerned. Normally that little voice always had a snarky comeback. It was me after all. "I was just talking." I told it, staring up at the moonlight. Was it me, or did it just flicker? "No real reason."

_Ah. Well in that case, isn't there somewhere you need to be?_

My gaze automatically swiveled around to the direction of Cupcake's house. That's right. There was a certain little girl who was probably terrified out of her wits for me that I needed to see as soon as possible. I sighed, pushing myself to my feet and letting out a yawn. I raised an eyebrow at myself. "Seriously? What with all I've slept in the last few weeks, you'd think I've had enough godsdamn sleep!"

_You would think so._

I felt a smirk sneak across my face as I rolled my shoulders and flexed my arms in preparation for flight. I hadn't flown in so long I wasn't sure if I knew how anymore.

But I needn't have worried. It was like muscle-memory. All I had to do was imagine myself rising up through the air, propelled by the smooth currents with absolute control over my movements and it was so. My body was lifted up into the air as if weighed nothing and I let out a whoop of joy, leaning forward and shooting off into the sky like a bullet.

My enthusiasm, however, didn't last. And I soon found that yes, I had been underground too long. My muchles aches after only a minute of flying and I noticed I was dropping very rapidly in altitude. I tried to tough it out and keep flying, but my hair was whipping all up in my face like a tornado of violet and it was taking all the will I had not to fly into a tree.

By the time I reached Cupcake's house I was so utterly exhausted that I was flying low enough to feel the grass beneath my feet as I skimmed into their yard. I was literally fighting to keep from falling out of the sky and skidding into the dirt, but as soon as I saw a familiar spiky-haired silhouette against the light of her open bedroom window I felt a spark ignite in my chest and I grinned.

"Hey Cupcake!" I hollered, waving at her with both hands and forgetting to maintain my balance. "Guess who's baaaaack!"

I heard a squeal and saw her leaning her head out the window. "Meggie?!" She yelled and I couldn't help grinning.

"That's ma name, don't wear it out!" I tilted my face upward and my body immediately corresponded, arching upwards and I tried to judge the distance so that I could swoop into through the window, making one of my patented explosive enterances. Sadly, my estimate was just slightly off and I ended up rising too fast. My head slammed into a beam that protruded over the window and kept the over-hanging roof up and I dropped like a sack of bricks towards the ground.

I kid you not the earth _shook _as soon as I hit the lawn. Tremors reached an old oak tree that grew about fifty feet from the house and I could practically feel the dew on the leaves falling in little spatters against the ground. I landed on my behind which absorbed the majority of the blow, but it was still a shock to my system. I was dizzy, disoriented and it took me a few seconds of shaking my head before I was able to raise my head and look around.

"Whew!" I said, chuckling to myself as I rubbed the goose-egg on the top of my head. "That was fun. It feels like I've been stuffed into a giant cannon filled with mines and shot to hell, but still fun."

Before I could try to get up however I heard a screen door slam and a shriek of utter glee echoed throughout the clearing. I looked up, recognizing that shriek and saw a pink blur barreling towards me and only had a few seconds to brace myself before I had the wind knocked out of me.

"Oof!" I grunted. The impact of the excited little girl threw me backwards onto the ground and I winced as the back of my head impacted on the ground. "Jeez kid, go easy on me!" She was clinging to me so tightly I felt like I might pass out from lack of oxygen. It was like she feared I might evaporate into smoke like a bad dream and- was she _crying? _

"Go _easy_ on you?!"

I stiffened. _Oh hell._

"GO EASY ON YOU?!" Cupcake pulled away and socked me one _hard _in the shoulder.

I flinched. "Ow," I muttered, rubbing the spot which was already starting to bruise. "That hurt!"

She gave me a glare so withering that I felt my stomach turning inside out. My glare-o-doom was nothing spectacular, compared to my mentor Cupcake's who could could curdle blood at a single sight. And boy could I feel my blood curdling now. Her eyes were little narrowed slits of fire and when I heard her speak I automatically looked down at my hands.

"Aww, did it?" She asked condescendingly, looking at me over her glasses with that _I'm going to strangle you in five seconds if you put a single foot wrong _look. "I'm _so sorry _sweetie, perhaps I can put a bandage on it and make it _allll better_." She followed up with another blow, this time to my other shoulder and yet another to my stomach. "Does that feel better?!" She raged, landing punch after punch on me while I just sat there, barely defending myself. "Huh? Does _that _feel better?!" She started swinging blindly and it was all I could do to lift my arms up and block my face.

"Cupcake-" I tried to speak but another punch caught me in the arm and I hissed in pain. "Cupcake, stop this! I'm sorry- Ow! Frag that hurt! -I'm sorry, alright? Sorry I left, sorry I didn't write or call1 I'm sorry!"

But she just kept coming at me. "IT'S NOT ENOUGH!" She screamed at me, kicking at my legs and landing quite a few hits on my kneecaps. "You're _not _sorry! You're not sorry at all!" Her punches turned to slapping and kicking as she continued to beat the frustration out of herself and into me. "DO YOU KNOW- HOW SCARED I WAS?!" She asked, punctuating the sentence with a sharp slap on my arm that stung like a whip, but I bit my tongue and held back thee cry of pain that so desperately wanted to escape my lips. "DO YOU?!"

I could tell her rage was subsiding into sadness by the sobbing that was underlying her yells and her tone was slowly going from anger to desperation. At this point, all I needed to do was wait her out. Unfortunately, my Cupcake was a very stubborn little girl and after five more minutes of listening to her rage and scream at me and feeling the blows land on my body, I decided that waiting her out wasn't an option. This needed to end.

"Margaret, please Margaret- MARGARET!" I grabbed her by the shoulders as she went to swing again and she stopped. I looked her straight in the eyes and saw guiltily that her eyes were wet with tears. "Margaret," My voice was quiet. I tried to make it sound authoritarian, but I was too overcome with emotions. "I'm sorry kiddo."

Her lip was quivering, with sadness, joy or rage I could not tell. Suddenly she let out an anguished cry and threw her arms around my neck, sobbing wildly. "Oh Meggie," she cried, burying her face into my collarbone. "I was so sc-scared for you. I stayed up, every night waiting for you but you n-n-never came back! I thought you had been killed!"

I hugged her tightly, guilt still twisting my intestines. _Damn. She really does care about me._ I sighed, putting my right hand on the back of her head and stroking her spiky hair while I patted her back reassuringly. "I know sweetheart," I told her gently, rocking back and forth as if she were a baby and not a pre-teen. "I know and for that I'm so _so_ sorry." I didn't say anything more because...well... I didn't know what to say. Could I tell her that for the last few weeks I had been taken captive by the Boogeyman? She would probably believe me. But the problem was...I wasn't sure if I wanted to be believed.

The last few weeks had been...interesting. To say the least. And traumatic to say the most. It had given me some life skills I didn't have before I was kidnapped, and they were useful, but it had also made me very afraid of what else might be out there. And I didn't want to unload that all onto Cupcake. Not if she really _did _know the Boogeyman. And if she did, she might try to seek him out and make him apologize or something, which would bring up a _whole _new batch of trouble that I didn't want. I just wanted to put that entire nightmare behind me and hope that I never set eyes on him again.

She pulled back and I almost sighed in relief. She was smiling through the residual tears still running down her chubby pink face. "It's OK," Cupcake told me, lifting her little hand up to my face where she rested it on my cheek, still beaming. She sniffed. "I'm just glad you're home."

I tried not to grimace as a memory briefly resurfaced, long enough for me to hear his voice. _"We're home."_

"Yeah sweetie," I said, giving her my best fake smile. "I'm home."

We went inside not long after. Cupcake insisted on treating me like a disabled old crone, opening the doors for me and helping me up the stairs. We got to her room fairly quickly, in spite of the fact that she forced me to use her as a crutch. Everything was just as I remembered. The living room, the kitchen, the dining room, nothing had changed except the slightly larger stack of paid bills which rested on the kitchen counter beside the coffee pot.

It seemed like everyone in the house was asleep, judging by the lack of light I noticed as we passed the rooms of her parents and the spare room her sister used when she visited.

"Just how late did you stay up for me?" I asked her as she hobbled along with me up the stairs.

"Until two in the morning, every night." Cupcake replied and I could hear her heavily breathing as she labored to 'help' me up the stairs.

I narrowed my eyes and glared at her. "Margaret!"

She chose not to answer until we were at her door and she finally let my arm go. Cupcake let out a sigh, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand theatrically. "Whew. Have you gotten heavier?"

I delivered a swift Gibbs to the back of the head. "Hey, you're the one that insisted on treating me like a timid little old lady. I can walk perfectly fine! I flew here didn't I?"

Cupcake couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips as she pushed open the door. "Is that what you call it? I thought that was falling with style."

I Gibbs'd her again and we both laughed as we headed into her room.

As I entered I couldn't help noticing the slightly rumpled look of Cupcake's room. The clean, organized living space that I had left no less than three weeks ago had been turned on its head and now stood as a refuse wasteland of pizza boxes, discarded clothing, battered textbooks, papers crumpled and uncrumpled alike, pencils which were broken in half, notebooks and enough dirty dishes to make me squirm.

I tenderly tip-toed through the junk covering the floor, following Cupcake who was deftly wading through the sea of stuff and not caring a fig where she stepped. Only when I heard a dish crack did I speak up. "Uhhh, Cupcake? I think we've made a detour into the public landfill."

She glanced around her at the piles of crap lying around and shrugged. "What, it's not that bad is it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Child, I wouldn't be surprised in the least if I saw a Junktacon running through here looking for spare parts!" I told her firmly.

She laughed. "OK, fair enough." Cupcake waded back towards me and started clearing a space to let me through and as she did, she explained how this disheveled stare of repair had happened to her room. "I've been kind of... forgetting to clean these last few weeks." When I gave her a look she stuck her tongue out at me and said defensively, "Hey, I was too worried about you to clean!" She straightened up, her hands on her hips with a apple core in one hand and a soda can in the other. "I spent hours and hours siting in front of that window, waiting for you to come home!"

I nodded, the serpent of guilt once again writhing up inside me. "I know." I told her. "I know and for that I'm so sorry."

But she simply waved it off. "I'm not interested in _sorry_." She told me. "I'm interested to know where you've been the last few weeks!"

We finally cleared the way enough for the both of us to get to her bed. I sat down. She followed my lead. We both sat there for what felt like an eternity, her watching my face closely while I looked down at my lap, trying to think of what to say.

Finally, I alighted on something that was kind of near the truth. "I..." I swallowed, trying to sound natural. "I decided to do some traveling. It took me a lot farther than I thought I would go and...I learned a lot. But I couldn't come back until now." I didn't even want to look at her. Even to me, this explanation sounded stupid.

Cupcake let out a hmph. "You could've called."

I shrugged. "No phones."

I could practically feel her gaze narrowing on me, urging me to look up into her eyes but I couldn't. "You couldn't steal one?" She asked, sounding half amused, half annoyed.

_Dammit I'm going to have to think of something much better than this! _I sighed. "Alright, you really want to know where I was?" This was taking a gamble, but hopefully it would pay off and I could get over this.

She nodded, folding her arms over her chest expectantly.

This time I looked her in the eyes. I didn't want her to think that I was lying to her this time. "About three weeks ago," I began, already working out my story in my head before the words came from my lips. "I met someone."

Her eyebrows shot up faster than a squirrel on crack. "You..." Apparently she was too astounded to finish the sentence.

I nodded, allowing a smile to creep into my face. "Met someone. Yeah. More like I ran into him." Her eyebrows started steadily rising higher and higher until I found myself telling her, "Dude, kiddo your eyebrows are going to float up off your face if you make them go any higher."

She lowered her eyebrows, but the surprised expression remained. "So...who was he? This person you met. Could he see you?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He could see me. That was part of the problem. And..." _Here goes. _I thought, steeling myself. _The big gamble_. This would determine where I went from here. "And he wasn't like you."

This time I could've sworn her eyebrows actually _did _jump up into her hairline, vanishing from sight in the brown tangle of hair. I couldn't help myself. I chuckled.

She gave me a glare and I coughed. "Sorry. It was just...your eyebrows jumped and...well it looked like... ahem. Sorry." I apologized, forcing myself to hide my smile. She continued giving me that withering glare and I coughed again. "He, this guy I met- well, that I ran into,"

"Just get to the point Meggie." She interrupted, raising a hand. "What do you mean _he's not like me?_"

This time, my sigh was completely theatrical. "Well...you know how you keep calling me a spirit and stuff?"

She nodded. "Yeeeeeeah,"

"Well..." I waited a few seconds. It was a miracle she couldn't hear my heart thumping in my chest. "I'm starting to think you might be right. Because the guy I met...he claimed to be the Leprechaun."

The silence that followed was so thick it could've been cut with a butter-knife. Cupcake stared at me, her eyebrows furrowed in utter consternation as she tried to process what I had said. I could practically see the cogs and gears of her mind going into over-drive as she picked apart my confession and analyzed it.

After five minutes and she still didn't respond, I shrugged and told her, "At first I didn't believe it, but then he showed me this glowing coin thingy that was definitely one of those relics that you told me about. And he started talking about a bunch of other spirits and asking me weird questions about how old I was and whither I knew my purpose or whatever." I shrugged again. "I've gotta be honest, at first I thought he was completely nuts. Then he summoned this weird rainbow thing and grabbed me, teleporting me to a huge golden castle that really was in Ireland!"

I was trying to make my story sound a bit more believable but as I rambled on I could see that Cupcake's eyes were starting to narrow. So I stopped. I smiled, hoping to the gods of luck- and adding an extra little prayer to the Leprechaun himself, that cupcake would believe me and let this thing drop.

After a long, tense stretch of silence she finally spoke. And when she did, it was one of the things I had feared most. A question. "What was his name?"

I blinked, trying to play dumb. "Huh?" But inside I was starting to panic. If I answered wrong, I was gonna be in a heap of trouble.

"His name." She repeated. "The Leprechaun. What was his name?"

"Oh, _his _name." I smiled, going over all the names that Pitch had said, trying to remember if he had mentioned the leprechaun. Had he? I couldn't remember! But, despite how much I was panicking I forced my face to remain all smiles and confidence. "Yeah, I think he told me his name. Ahhhhh..." I couldn't remember! No matter how hard I tried there was nothing I could remember! So I decided to take a guess and give her the most irish name I could think of at the time. "Liam! Yes, that's right. Liam Connors, yeah I think that was it."

I swear, those few seconds in between me saying the name and waiting for Cupcake's verdict were the most stressful of my entire life! I was watching her eyes, desperately looking for some kind of recognition at the sound of the name but Cupcake had an iron-clad poker-face. I wasn't getting any answers from her until she gave them to me.

Which she did soon enough.

"You know..." She said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "I think you might actually have met the real Leprechaun."

I had to fight hard not to sigh in relief. _Oh thank the gods, _I thought, trying to compose myself. I gave her the right name! "Well, I'm pretty sure he wasn't the Easter bunny." I told her, smiling.

Cupcake nodded again, still looking thoughtful. "Yeah. But that still doesn't explain why you were gone so long."

I chuckled. Here came the easy part. "Well I was in Ireland." I told her, shrugging helplessly. "I stayed with him at his castle for a few weeks, and it took me a week to get home! It's not easy to fly all the way from Ireland- all the while not getting lost, keeping out of sight of other people, and maintaining my own strength!" I told her reproachfully.

She nodded apologetically. "Right, sorry." Then she asked, "But why did you stay so long?"

I shrugged and started spinning yet another long side to my tale, this time about how I wanted to learn more about him and about my powers, so I had decided to stick around. Apparently, the Leprechaun had been happy to teach me and before we knew it, two weeks had gone by. And, as outlandish as it appeared to me, she seemed to buy it completely.

After my story was finished, she told me that I deserved a rest after my 'long journey'. I accepted and headed back to my old closet haunt where I fell down on my cot like a sack of bricks, suddenly realizing just how tired I was. Even though my flight hadn't been _quite _as far as Ireland, but it still felt pretty far since I hadn't flown in three weeks. My body was aching like I had been in a boxing tournement and it was all I could do to stretch out in my confined space then rolled over onto my side, snuggling into my pillow, ready to jump head-first into the sweet, sweet oblivion of sleep. I sighed contentedly.

I was home. For real this time.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Pitch Black stood at the mouth of his caves, staring up the tunnel at the sky above him. She was gone. Just like that she had floated up through the tunnel, called out one last farewell and had disappeared. Just like that.

He didn't know how long he stood there for. Seconds, minutes, hours, he wasn't sure. Time meant nothing to the Boogeyman while he stared up at the stars and the moon hanging above him. Every muscle in his body told him to get up there and find her. Every thought in his mind was about her. Where was she now? What was she doing? Was she safe? Was she alright?

Thoughts of her refused to leave his mind. He could almost picture her in his mind's eye; Remembering how she laughed, how she smiled. And also how vicious and ruthless she was. He remembered her determination, and her utter fearlessness. He remembered the look of amusement on her face when he would try to help her and end up doing something stupid. And he remembered her sadness. How those sweet green eyes seemed to well with wet tears at the slightest provocation sometimes and how others they would remain resolute and cold, staring him down like they were in a Mexican standoff.

Pitch tried to close his eyes against the hurtful images. He tried to look away but for some reason he couldn't. So he just kept staring up at the night sky until he heard the familiar soft clip-clop of Onyx's hooves against the rocky ground. Only then did he finally manage to tear his eyes away from the opening and glance over at the Nightmare that was looming out of the darkness beside him.

_So, she's gone? _She asked, sidling over to him and resting her head over his shoulder.

Pitch nodded, bringing his hand up and stroking her forehead. "Yes." He murmured, staring idly off into space. She was gone. No matter how much he wanted to tell himself differently, it was true.

Onyx exhaled slowly, as if saddened but not surprised by the information. The air tickled his fingertips and he stopped stroking her. _Well...Maybe it's for the best Pitch._ She told him, trying to console him as best she could. _You and her, you live different lives! she's just starting out as a spirit, and you're trying to remake your family after years of hardships and toils. _

He nodded, but Onyx could tell that he wasn't paying attention. He was just staring off into space with glassy eyes, his mind wandering through the precious few memories he had with the girl. Onyx let out a low whinnie and shuffled her feet. After the thousands of years during which she served him faithfully, she had learned to tell when he didn't need her. This was one of those time. And even though it felt _wrong _to just leave him here alone, she knew her presence wouldn't help. He needed one person and only one person. And she was probably never coming back.

_There's nothing I can do for him, _she thought to herself dejectedly, scraping the ground with her hoof as she tried to decide whither to leave or stay. Finally, she let out a deep sigh and told him, _If you need me, I'll be down in the pens. _She told her master and, with a single farewell whinnie, she turned and dissappeared back into the darkness of the tunnel.

Leaving what she thought was a very distraught and distant Boogeyman alone in the dark, with nothing but his thoughts and fears for company.

Actually, nothing could be farther from the truth.

You see, Pitch Black wasn't the type of person to repeat his mistake. Not when he could learn from them. He had already wasted enough time lamenting her leaving and wallowing in self-pity. Just like after the Nightmare War. Except for this time, he knew better than to let himself get snatched up by the darkness again.

"There's no use mooning over what I can't change." He told himself firmly, shaking his head. "She's gone, and no amount of whining, bitching, moaning, crying or reminiscing is going to change that! Might as well just pick up the pieces of the rest of my life and move the hell on!"

OK, so that last part might've gotten a bit passionate. He sighed as if he were the most ancient man in the world.

"Sometimes," he murmured to himself, glancing up at the sky. He could almost see the sparkling turrets of the Lunar Palace high above him. "Sometimes I just sit back and wonder if this is all worth it." Then, after one more look up at the moon he wheeling around and headed back down the tunnel towards his home.

If anything, Pitch was a practical spirit. He knew his limitations- though most of the time he blatantly ignored them, and he knew that even when life throws you a wicked curve ball, you've gotta find a way to hit it out of the park. He adhered to that old human adage: Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, shame on you. Only he liked to think of it as more of a _there's no use crying over spilled milk _way. He knew that the girl wasn't coming back. And, unless he actually tried to track her down- which he promised he wouldn't do, he would probably never see her again. So, he chose to simply accept the fact and focus his attention on other things.

"Like what the Guardians will think of me if I head up to the Pole right now and tell them everything." He murmured, deftly taking a left and heading in the direction of his living room. Now that the girl was gone, he could indeed safely tell them everything and didn't need to worry about the girl running off. But the question was, _should _he?

_It's never good to hide things from your family, _he told himself sternly. _Never. And I've hidden enough things from Tooth lately. And anyway, who's to say they would believe me, even if I did tell them? Because let's face it I haven't been the most trustworthy person in the family of late. Speaking of which..._

What with all the stress of taking care of the girl, he hadn't even _thought _about his strange interactions with the Guardians over the last month. Though now that he did think about it, why _had _Sandy acted so strangely to him that night in the Cloud Castle? So reserved about talking to him, just like Tooth and North and Jack in the Pole. Even they hadn't mentioned his mysterious hermitage.

"But Sandy did." He murmured, letting his feet take control of where he went and only paying enough attention to avoid walls. "Sandy let it slip. And when Tooth tried to tell me about it, Jack stopped her. Why?" He was asking these questions to the empty air, and after a few minutes of thinking he come up with several potential answers. "Jack might've been worried about my reaction." He reasoned. After all, he had felt enough anxiousness emanating from Jack to constitute such an answer. But that just didn't seem to fit.

They knew he had been underground for the better part of a year- which was odd, because he didn't remember anything like that. And what with Sandy's cryptic words regarding why he had gone into hiding, he was extremely worried that whatever it was had hurt someone near and dear to him. But no one appeared hurt. Sera and the Pitchners were still in the Lunar Palace, last he checked, and everybody else was accounted for.

Right?

Pitch sighed. None of the answers- if you could call them that, were satisfied him and by the time he found himself standing on the edge of his living room, he decided to just forget about it for now. There would be an opportunity to ask them all soon.

Pitch strode into the room as confidently as if he owned the place, which he did, and immediately made for the couch that sat in the center of the room. The entire area- even the kitchen, was completely spotless, as if he hadn't been here for weeks. And it did feel like weeks since he had sat down and watched a good movie or some TV. He sat gracefully down on his chair, having nothing else to do and deftly turned on the cable. But, after flipping through at least a hundred different channels he found there was nothing good to watch and switched it off again.

"Maybe a good book." He murmured, hauling himself up with a weary sigh and heading to the library. "Yes, that's what I need."

"Or maybe a nap."

Tired, beat to hell and stressed though he was, let it never be said that Pitch Black wasn't always ready for a fight. As soon as he heard the voice years of battle instincts kicked in. He summoned his scythe, leaped away from the voice and dropped into a defensive stance.

Only to falter when he heard the sound of familiar laughing. "Kozmotis?"

The owner of the laughter stepped out of the shadows before him and revealed that it was indeed the former Guardian of Courage. His long, black hair hung loosely around his shoulders, reminding Pitch somewhat of his daughter Sera, except for the presence of silver streaks that denoted his considerable age. He still had the same old confident smile and glittering golden eyes, but had apparently exchanged the golden armor for a more practical set of bell-bottom jeans, black boots and an open button-up shirt with another T-shirt beneath it. The whole outfit was midnight black and was completed by the golden locket that hung around his neck.

"Well it's not the Easter Bunny." He replied with a maddening smile.

Pitch instantly relaxed his stance and the scythe vanished as he stepped forward, embracing the other man in a warm hug. "It's good to see you old friend." He said, pulling away and holding him at arms' length while he took in his counterpart's new look. "I assume this was the result of our daughter trying to throw you into the absurd fashions of this era?"

Kozmotis glanced down at himself as if noticing the clothes for the first time. "What, this? This is just one of the many outfits I acquired in the last few months. You would be surprised how often Archaline takes Sera to go shopping these days, and they _always _come back with something for me." He threw up his hands in exasperation. "My closets up there are full to bursting!"

Pitch smirked. "Aww, poor baby." He cooed sarcastically. _Honestly_. The man was a respecting General for thousands of years and yet here he was, whining about his closets!

Kozmotis whacked him on the shoulder. "I would think you of all people would be sympathetic to my plight!" He replied grumpily, though Pitch coud see the smile twitching around his lips.

Pitch rolled his eyes. "I have not had to deal with copious amounts of clothing being thrust upon me." Then he remembered shopping for the girl and added with a small smile, "As of yet."

The former Guardian nodded. "Fair enough."

As they had this little exchange, Pitch and Kozmotis had both been steadily moving towards the couch and after Kozmotis conceded defeat, they sat down. They made small talk for a bit, Pitch asking about the family and how the others had been up on the Moon while Koz answered, until the Boogeyman finally asked the question that had been burning on his lips.

"So what are you doing here Koz?" Pitch asked, looking at his friend expectantly. "I have a feeling it wasn't just to make idle chit-chat and whine about your wardrobe."

Kozmotis shrugged. "Well I had to see if the rumors were true." He replied. "I heard from Nightlight that you've apparently gotten over yourself and come back to your senses. I was just curious to see if it was true or not."

Pitch threw his arms up in the air in utter exasperation. "OK, that tears it!" He yelled, flopping backwards against the couch. "I am so sick and tired of people talking to me as if I've been a shut-in for the last year! I have been going around, doing my normal duties, going around the world helping children face their fears! I have not been holed up in here, I've been out in the world but NO ONE seems to believe me!"

Kozmotis raised an eyebrow. "I...wasn't talking about that." He said, looking at Pitch as if he feared for the Boogeyman's sanity. "I was talking about your apparent adoption of a little girl spirit."

Pitch blinked. "Really?"

Kozmotis nodded, his eyebrow still raised. "Really Pitch. And I don't know what you're talking about being a shut-in. I've seen you going around the world for the last year just like you normally would."

Pitch could practically feel his brain grinding to a complete halt as he slowly began to register what he had said. "You...you remember me going around and helping the children?" He asked tentatively, wondering if it was the others going crazy and not him.

He nodded again patiently. "_Yes _Pitch. _I do. _I remember coming with you a few times even. And I don't know who told you otherwise, but they need to get their facts straight."

Pitch sighed. "_Thank you!_"He exclaimed, extremely pleased that someone was _finally _on his side about this. "Yes, I do not understand why the others are acting like I've been hiding under a rock for the last year. It's _really _strange. And slightly annoying."

Kozmotis raised his eyebrow again. "That _is _strange." He agreed. "Have you tried talking to them about this?"

Pitch shrugged. "I did try, yes but for some reason they clammed up and started talking about something else. It was almost as if I was the only one that remembered."

Kozmotis frowned thoughtfully. "Hmm. Interesting. Maybe they're trying to forget something."

Pitch frowned, utterly puzzled. "Forget _what?_" He demanded. "What could any of them _possibly _have to forget?"

Kozmotis shrugged. "I don't know Pitch, I haven't the faintest idea what's going on. Honestly. I just heard something about Manny needing to talk to you and the other Guardians, but other than that I don't really get much news from down here."

"That's true." Pitch agreed with a tired sigh. His headache was starting to act up again and he rubbed his temples for a minute before continuing. "I didn't expect you to know anything Kozmotis I'm just..."

"You're just sick of people hiding things from you?" Kozmotis finished, giving him that knowing smile that only a true friend can give.

Pitch nodded. _Couldn't have said it better myself. _

"Well, to be fair..." Koz told him, putting an arm around his shoulder and smiling evilly. "You have been keeping stuff from us too. Like, going back to the real reason I'm here, your apparent adoption of a certain _little girl?_"

Pitch couldn't help the derisive snort that escaped his lips upon hearing his description of Meggie. "She's _not _little." He told Koz firmly. "Anything _but! _She looks like a teenager and is heavy enough to be an adult!" His hand automatically went to his stomach as he remembered the nasty beating she had given him on her last escape attempt. "She hits like one too."

Kozmotis, noting the reaction, laughed. "What? Did you give her the wrong color dress to wear and she kicked your ass for it?" He teased, poking his counterpart in the side.

Pitch rolled his eyes, pulling away grumpily. "Something like that."

"Well, no matter." Kozmotis replied brightly, looking around. "I should like to meet this girl anyway. Where is she?"

Pitch felt a momentary pang of guilt twist in his heart. He took several deep breaths, then said flatly, "I let her leave."

Kozmotis raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Pitch took a deep breath.

"She wasn't happy here." He explained, hunching over and staring at his feet. "She felt confined. Trapped. I couldn't force her to stay here. Not against her will."

Kozmotis still didn't say anything.

Pitch took one last deep breath before the whole story came tumbling out. How he met her, how she escaped him the first time by changing, how he eventually found her again, her infamous first change into that littler girl, her numerous escape attempts, their conversations and what he had learned about her. Kozmotis seemed to enjoy the story very much because he was laughing uproariously by the end of the first part and continued to laugh until he got to her last escape.

Then he abruptly stopped laughing.

"Damn Pitch," He murmured, seeing the Boogeyman's depressed face after he described how utterly terrified she was when he found her in the Shadow Realm. "I am sorry you both had to go through that."

Pitch nodded, looking down at his hands in his lap. He couldn't meet Kozmotis's face. What he must think of him after hearing this story... "Yeah." He said quietly. "I'm sorry too. And it wouldn't have happened if I had just let her go that first night."

Kozmotis put a comforting arm around his shoulder. "Hey, you did the best thing you could do for her; You tried to help her. And given time, I'm sure she'll realize how much good that really does." Pitch wasn't looking any cheerier. "Come on Boogerman!" He cried, rubbing Pitch's head to entice some kind of reaction out of him, though he had a feeling ti was going to be genitive. "Look at it this way: It's her first learning experience. If she really is a spirit, then I'm sure we'll all see her around eventually."

Pitch shoved him away, but there was a smile playing around his lips. "That's right." He admitted. After all, all spirits run into each other at some time or another.

"Of course it's right!" Kozmotis told him, clapping him on the back. "I'm always right! Now, stop moaning, put on your game-face and let's go do something fun! I'm sure Archaline and Sera are dying to see you again." He stood up, gesturing for Pitch to do the same.

Pitch nodded and stood. As he did so, he heard a rustling and felt something move against his chest. He glanced down and when he noticed a slight outline against the fabric of his robe, he reached into it and pulled out a small notebook tucked between the folds of fabric. _I had almost forgotten that she gave this to me. _He thought, turning the book over in his hand. There was a dent where the pencil sat between the pages.

"What's that?" Kozmotis's voice broke through his musings and he looked up.

"Oh, this. It's Meggie's notebook." Pitch told him, holding the notebook out. "She gave it to me before she left."

"May I?" Kozmotis asked, holding his hand out. Pitch shrugged and handed it to him. He flipped it open and scanned a few of the pages. His eyebrows lifted. Then, after a few seconds he closed the book and handed it back to him. "Wow. She _really _didn't like you."

Pitch laughed, taking the book back and opening it to a random page. The words _Never thought I would see the day when a pasty-faced beanpole with Marfan syndrome would keep me prisoner _glared out at him on the page. He chuckled. "Yeah, she really _really _didn't. Not at first anyway."

They headed back down the tunnel that led back up to the surface, talking all the while.

"At first?" Kozmotis asked, raising an eyebrow.

Pitch nodded, taking a left. Koz followed him. "Yeah, but I think that by the end we had managed at least to have _some _mutual respect for each other." He replied. "I mean, she probably still resented me for basically kidnapping her, I wouldn't expect anything different, but still."

Koz nodded in agreement and followed Pitch's lead down the tunnel. "Right, right." They walked in silence for a while before finally coming back up to the mouth of the caves. Pitch waved his hand and a pool of Nightmare Sand formed around their feet. One quick rising trip later and they were standing on the grassy surface, staring up at the moon which was still hanging brightly in the sky.

"So, how is this gonna work?" Pitch asked, raising an eyebrow. "The last time I went to the Moon it was through my own mind."

Kozmotis chuckled, putting an around around his shoulder and waving the other hand. "Don't worry, this'll be a lot easier. I've got access to the express elevator!"

Pitch blinked. "The wha-" But before he could get the whole word out he heard a slight buzzing sound in his right ear and he looked up to see a shimmering aura of silvery blue light had surrounded them both. "What the hell is this?!" He asked, holding up his hand which was already silver anyway but now with the light it looked positively translucent.

Kozmotis chuckled and Pitch noticed that he was keeping an abnormally tight grip on his shoulder. "Just wait." He said.

Pitch decided to listen to him and remained silent while the light steadily grew brighter and brighter, enveloping them in a cloud of gossamer mists. As the mists started to clear, he found himself standing in a very unfamiliar place, listening to some very very familiar voices.

"-not my fault." A woman- Archaline, he was pretty sure, was saying. "If he had-"

"Mom, you know dad doesn't really listen to anybody." The chagrined voice of Seraphina Pitchner interrupted. "If he ever did."

Everything was painfully bright and unfocused and he had to blink quite a few times, wiping away tears before he could actually see the speakers. It was indeed both Pitchner women.

The daughter was sitting- draped, more like, on an elegant black chaise lounge with a book resting in her lap. Her black hair was tucked in an immensely long braid which was coiled beside her like a length of rope and she wore the typical green dress and bare feet of Mother Nature. The mother, on the other hand, was pacing about anxiously, fidgeting with her hands, the fabric of her loose tan-colored dress that went down to her knees, the shoulder-length black hair that barely brushed her shoulders and glancing around her periodically, almost as if she were expecting something to appear.

They didn't seem to notice either of them yet, as they were standing in the doorway behind both women. Kozmotis nudged Pitch and, when he had his attention he gave a surreptitious wink and snuck up stealthily behind his wife. Wrapping his arms around her and ignoring the small squeak of surprise, he leaned in until his head was perched on her shoulder and whispered, "That's one of the perks of being a ranking officer."

"Koz!" Archaline exclaimed, spinning around and hugging her husband lovingly. Her face was blushing pink with joy and her features which were so much like her daughters practically radiated joy. "Oh, I'm glad you're back!"

Kozmotis kissed her, not removing his arms from around her shoulders. "I'm glad too Ara." He whispered, inhaling her scent like warm laundry out of a dryer mixed with flowers as he held her close. "I hate being away from you so."

"DAD!"

Pitch tried not to laugh as the General was mobbed by his affectionate daughter who had bolted from the couch in a flash of bright green as soon as she heard his voice, throwing the book aside and wrapping her equally long arms around him and her mother.

Kozmotis chuckled and rubbed her head, bestowing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Hello Sera my love." He said, beaming at her as if the last ten thousand years hadn't even happened. "How have things been?"

She shrugged and Pitch saw some of the light leave her eyes. "Not bad," she offered. Then her face grew pensive and she immediately added, "But not great either. We're still having issues trying to figure out the logistics of-"

"_Pitch!_"

Pitch looked away form the family, recognizing the wispy tones of the Guardian of the Night almost instantly. "Nightlight?"

From a small square space that appeared to be a window poked a curly head of white glowing hair and a beaming luminescent face. The body followed and Nightlight, staff and all, floated over to him until he stood eye to eye with Pitch. He grinned. "_Who else?_" He asked, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow.

Pitch chuckled as he embraced the young man. "How are you my boy?" He asked as his arms enclosed around the wisp of a man. "I haven't seen you in some time."

Nightlight returned the hug, shrugging. "_Oh, a little of this, a little of that. Shepherding the moonlight, helping light the night and keeping the night terrors away, managing my utterly pig-headed reckless boor of a brother, keeping an eye on the family- both here and the Guardians, you know. The usual." _

Pitch snorted. There weren't many people that could call the Man in the Moon a pig-headed reckless boor. His older brother was an exception. "Is Manny working himself too hard again?" He asked concernedly, peering at the boy as the Pitchner family settled down into chairs. "You know, as the older brother you can knock some sense into him if you think he needs it."

Nightlight chuckled as well. "_As much as he needs to rest, I don't think he would take too kindly to me clocking him on the head. And besides,_" he gestured around at the room around them helplessly. "_I don't know how to drive this bloody thing."_

Pitch looked around for the first time since the mists had dissipated. The room they were standing in reminded him _somewhat _of the Moon Palace. Only, it wasn't as silver. Or anywhere near as big. In fact, it barely seemed bigger than a three-room apartment or the ground floor level of a house. Don't get him wrong there were still accents of silver in the swirl of the huge pillars that framed the walls and held up the ceiling, but the majority of everything was just plain old wall-paper and wood.

He raised an eyebrow. "We're on the Moon?" He asked, puzzled.

Nightlight nodded proudly. "_Yep. This is where Archaline stayed for a long, long time after Manny brought her back._" He replied. "_And, since she already knows this place like the back of her hand, Manny thought that it would be a good idea to move the family into here for a permanent residence_."

Pitch nodded in understanding. "Ah, I see."

After the mystery of Tooth's little surprise reversion to human form was solved- partially, at any rate, Kozmotis had a few questions for the Man in the Moon about his own significant other which Manny was only happy to explain. It appeared that upon Archaline Pitchner's death, her soul had been taken by the Grim Reaper- or, basically the ancient equivalent which was actually a spirit refereed to now as _Nephthys, _the ancient Egyptian lady of the dead -and then, instead of being cast into the void to become part of the cosmic energy of the universe she had elected to reincarnate the soul into another body.

Unfortunately, someone- Manny had no idea who, as he was just a baby when this had all happened, had stopped her and had either commanded her or asked her to re-incarnate her soul back into her own body. This was just speculation on the part of Manny but obviously whatever it was had worked because some time in between his brother taking him to the Moon Palace and Manny growing into an adult- which had been about a eight hundred years or so and right at the birth of the new race of beings known as humans, Archaline had shown up at the doors of the Palace with all her memories, claiming to be the wife of the long-lost General Pitchner.

Of course Manny had taken her in. And here she had stayed until the day she was needed to come back into her family's life.

Nightlight nodded. "_Indeed. But they seem to love it here. And they are allowed to go on earth whenever they want to- barring certain cycles of the Moon where it's not safe to travel by moonlight_." He added. Then shook his head. "_But those don't happen very often_."

Pitch was about to ask what kind of cycles of the moon made moonlight-travel dangerous but before he could even open his mouth Kozmotis called, "Hey Pitch, quit brooding in the corner with the glowworm and get on over here!"

The Boogeyman resisted the urge to chuckle as he turned to face the now seated Pitchners. Kozmotis and Archaline were sharing the couch, while Seraphina was sitting in an armchair. There was a coffee table sitting in front of them and on it, several books and charts as well as crumpled up pieces of paper.

"I was not brooding," he told the former Guardian pointedly as he drew up in front of him. "I was having a conversation with Nightlight."

Koz waved a dismissive hand. "Bah. Come and sit down. I know you've been on your feet all day and probably most of the night, and you need a break to relax."

Pitch nodded respectfully and chose to sit in one of the empty armchairs in a corner, close to the couple and facing towards their daughter. Nightlight floated over until he was standing beside Sera and started playing with her hair but she swatted his hand away without looking up from her book.

"You even touch my hair," she warned him, waving a threatening finger under his nose while Nightlight stared at it cross-eyed. "And I swear on all that is green and lush I will sneak into your bedroom, die your skin and hair blue and every single time you come near me I will tell everybody to start singing "I'm blue" at the top of their lungs."

Nightlight dropped the strand of hair he still had in his fingertips. "_Yeesh sis, you'd think that Mother Nature would __**like **__having green hair!_" He teased, shooting Pitch a mischievous grin when he noticed his raised eyebrow.

Sera finally looked up and when she did, Pitch could see Nightlight instantly start to cringe and curl inwardly on himself. "Not when the dye job is _that _bad." She replied derisively.

Nightlight threw up his hands in defeat and stalked away, pouting. "_Well I didn't know it would run over your face!_" He grumbled, plopping down on the ground and sulking. Pitch watched this with mild interest while Kozmotis and Archaline tried not to giggle.

"Alright kids," Kozmotis told them both soothingly, though Pitch noticed there was a mad smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. "Relax. Nightlight, don't antagonize your sister and Sera,"

"Yes dad?" She inquired sweetly, turning to look at them with a glassy smile that positively _screamed _terror.

Pitch swore he saw Kozmotis shudder. "Don't threaten your brother unless you are fully prepared to follow through." He finished, albeit somewhat lamely.

Archaline rolled her hazel eyes in exasperation. "It's been like this for weeks." She told Pitch, bringing his attention away from the feuding siblings. "I swear, sometimes it's like having a pair of toddlers instead of fully-grown adults."

Pitch smirked. "I think I know what you mean." Granted, Meggie hadn't been that bad to deal with in the antagonizing aspect. But then he pictured what her and Jack could do together and he felt a little shudder of his own crawl up on his spine.

She beamed at him. "So, how have you been Pitch? I heard from Kozmotis that you're thinking about adopting a little girl spirit."

Pitch raised an eyebrow at Kozmotis. Since the re-immersion of her father and mother into her life, Sera had more or less become somewhat of a neice to him. Though he could still remember treating her like his daughter and still loved her as such, most of the time they simply acted as though they were simply extended family.

"Well...not exactly." He replied. "It's a bit more complicated than that. And I would really like to know how so many people know about it, _Kozmotis_?" He asked the General who turned back to face him, smiling innocently back at him.

"Who, me?" Koz asked. "I haven't told a soul. The only way I learned about all that was from Nightlight."

Pitch glanced over to Nightlight who had looked up upon hearing his name. "_Who, me? I didn't tell no one!_" Then he added sheepishly, "_Except for Manny_."

The Boogeyman rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "Does _anyone _in this family understand the concept of secrets?" He asked, directing the question more to the air than any of the room's current occupants but one answered regardless.

"_Not...really Pitc_h." Nightlight said hesitantly. "_I mean, after all the crap we've gone through, do you seriously think we're going to let secrets that could be potentially dangerous to the safety of all of us be alone?_"

He nodded. The boy did have a point. "And where _is _the Man in the Moon?" He asked, not even bothering to look around. "I've been meaning to talk to him for a while about a few things. I know you said he was under a lot of pressure right now but this is important."

Nightlight shook his head. "_Sorry Pitch, but Manny is severely stressed out right now and has asked that no visitors are allowed to see him_." The boy was fidgiting with his fingers, the way Archaline had earlier.

Pitch raised an eyebrow, curious and slightly worried. Judging by the fidgeting, something was up. "What's wrong with him?"

The Night Guardian shrugged. "_Nothing really. He's just tired. Overworking himself again. Like I said._"

Pitch nodded, muttering, "Of course." Before he turned back to the others. "Alright," he said, raising his hands. "Alright. So, Manny told Kozmotis who told the rest of you. What he told you I don't know, but I'm sure it's not right." Kozmotis tried to interrupt but Pitch silenced him with a wave of his hand. "However, before I go into details about the girl there is something I would like to ask you all."

Everyone perked up. "Yes Pitch?" Archaline asked, listening to him intently.

Both Sera's and Nightlight's eyes were trained on him and Kozmotis just sat there with his arms folded impassively. He knew what Pitch was going to ask.

"Have I been..." Pitch thought about how he could word this and not sound too insane. "Have I been kind of...staying in my caves for the last few months to a year? Almost all of the time?"

Archaline glanced at Kozmotis with a questioning look but he didn't respond. Sera frowned, then shook her head, sending her black hair swaying. "No, no you haven't. Not that I remember. You've been going around and doing your duties like you are supposed to, spending time with Tooth and the other Guardians, taking care of the children, everything you normally do."

"_That's right_." Nightlight chimed in. _"I saw you a couple of months ago when you were flying around Sicily. I think we spoke too, didn't we?_" He frowned, as if trying to remember.

Pitch thought about it for a second. Now that Nightlight mentioned it, he did remember spotting the boy on one of his runs a while ago, before al this madness with Meggie had happened. "That's right," he murmured. "You did."

"Why do you ask?" It was Archaline. She was leaning forward, watching him intently.

Pitch shrugged helplessly. "I've been...having some strange conversations with the other Guardians. They seem to think that I've been in hibernation the last year or something."

"Apparently, the other Guardians haven't seen him in such a long time it's as if he's been completely cut off from them." Kozmotis translated for the listeners' benefit. The other nodded understandingly. "But they're probably just over-exaggerating things and will get over it in a few days."

Pitch let out an doubtful sigh. "Maybe." He replied, shrugging.

Sera nodded firmly. "I'm sure that's it. The others just haven't seen you in a long time and they're missing you!" Her warm smile made Pitch's heart glow. "You know how fond Tooth is of you. And Jack and Aster and the others. They all care about you and want you to be happy. But they also like to guilt-trip you. Remember Jack and the paintball gun?" She asked and hers and Nightlight's eyes positively gleamed with mirth.

Pitch chuckled. "Of course I remember the paintball gun." He said. And he did.

Several months after the ordeal, just when things were starting to get back to normal North had gone on an outing with Sera- She called it a date. Kozmotis called it a portent of doom for the Russian- and while the master of Santoff Clausen was gone Jack decided to turn the Pole into a war zone. His defense: he had been 'testing' some of North's old paintball guns that had been left over from last Christmas to see if they were still operable. They were. All of them.

Sufficed to say, North hadn't been too pleased when he had returned from his date with Sera. He had tried to discipline Jack, but the winter sprite had simply brushed it off. But that hadn't helped matters. North ended up being furious with him and had erected spells to keep Jack out of the Pole for at least a month until they had finished cleaning up the mess he had made. Jack, sulking, had turned to Pitch for help in getting back inside the Pole which he had initially refused, but then Jack pulled the big blue eyes and had started muttering about how he only wanted a bit of fun and how he wasn't surprised a grumpy old man like Pitch was refusing to help.

Sufficed to say, guilt-tripping was a skill that apparently ran in the family.

Sera nodded. "There you go." She said firmly, smiling at him. "It's probably nothing but them playing a trick on you."

Archaline nodded. "That's right. I remember Koz talking about seeing you and Tooth for lunch almost every week in July last year." She beamed at her husband. "If anyone needs to get out of here for a while, it's him. he's been stuck up in this Palace for a few weeks and I'm sure he would love to have another lunch with you and Tooth."

"_I remember that too_." Nightlight added and then sighed with relief. "_And as for that thing with Sandy, I think the little guy isn't getting enough downtime. It's downright exhausting having to work two hemispheres on little to no energy_." He sounded like he was speaking from personal experience, Pitch noted.

The others went on and on about how he had not been a hermit and that they remembered, very distinctly spending a lot of time with him over the last few months that by the time he left the Palace several hours later, Pitch was so convinced that the others _were _just messing with him and that he _hadn't _been hiding in a hole for the last year that he didn't remember any other memories. All he could remember were spending the wonderful long summer days upon days of spending time with Tooth, doing his job, spending time with Jamie and the Burgess children, training Onyx, getting use to this crazy new life and relaxing. And everything was as it should be.

Pitch now stood in the center of the room, waiting for the moonlight that would take him home. He had just finished telling the Pitchners that didn't already know and the Night Guardian about Meggie. He had also shown then all the notebook which, in retrospect might not've been the best idea but they seemed to take it in stride.

"You were just helping her," Sera had told him comfortingly, putting her hand on his shoulder when he had confided in them about his fears for her and his disgust with himself over his actions. "I know it probably seems cruel to you but I used the same technique on Jack when he was first starting out. I was with him almost every day until he could handle himself-"

Pitch interrupted with an unstoppable snort.

Sera chuckled. "Well, when he couldn't go two blocks without incurring some sort of wrath or another." She amended. "But the point is, everybody needs a little guidance. Like dad said, you might see her again and when that happens, maybe she will want your help and it will all work out!"

Pitch nodded. "That's true."

Then Archaline had added, "And as for all that in the diary, you shouldn't take any of it to heart dear. People say horrible things when they're angry or scared."

"Don't I know it," he muttered.

All in all, it had been quite a successful visit. He had gotten to work out some of his fears with actual _people_, rather than the voices in his head, and had been given some very good advice on coping with all the stress of the last few weeks and now he was ready to head back home and sleep for a long, long time.

"Goodnight everyone," he said, nodding at the lady Pitchner and her daughter and waving the Kozmotis and Nightlight. "Thank you all for listening to me and helping me with this. I greatly appreciate it, more than you know."

Koz, who was standing up with the rest of them, nodded and stepped in for another hug. "It's alright man," he said, embracing Pitch. "That's what family's here for."

Pitch found himself beaming as he broke away from the hug. "Indeed. I'll see you again sometime soon. Lady Pitchner. Sera."

The women nodded back and Sera smiled at him. "Take care of yourself Pitch." She told him. "If dad has to come down there and drag you out of trouble, the rest of us _won't _be happy."

He was pretty sure she was joking, but with that blank expression and an underlying layer of amusement twitching at the corner of her mouth, he couldn't tell. "Can't make any promises Sera." He said, smirking. Then she gave him a glare and he added, "Buuut, I _will_ try to stay out of trouble as much as I can."

She nodded. "Good."

Nightlight stepped up and pointed his staff at an angle so that the moonlight inside the crystal-tipped dagger flowed freely over him, raining down in silvery ringlets that would take him home. "_Safe journey Pitch._" Was all Pitch heard before he felt the warm, bright light enveloping him and when he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in the exact same spot that he had left from. Almost as if he hadn't moved at all.

Back up in the Palace, as the moonlight flowed back into the crystal, Nightlight shook his staff once to make sure everything was in working order before he turned back to the others. "_Do you think he believes it?_" He asked, hovering anxiously a few inches off the ground.

Koz's gaze was still firmly fixed on the spot where Pitch had just been and only when he heard Nightlight's question did he look up. "I sure hope so." He said quietly, sitting down on the couch beside his wife with a sigh.

Sera sat as well. "I still don't understand why we have to lie to him." She stated plainly, folding her arms with a none-too-impressed look on her face. "The attempt was a failure. Why does your brother believe convincing Pitch will-"

Nightlight raised a hand. "_Sera, You know perfectly well that I don't know what goes on in my brother's head. Yes the attempt was a failure but we don't know if this will yield the same result. And if it makes Pitch happy then I'm willing to take the risk! The man deserves it._"

Archaline was the only one that didn't join in the conversation. She was staring out the small viewing porthole that looked down on the swirling blue and green orb that was earth. _Somewhere_, she thought sadly, _somewhere down there a little girl is hiding away. With no one to help her. _Her eyes brimmed with held-back tears and she wiped them away. _But she's got him looking out for her. _She told herself, turning back to her husband and children. _And that's something at least. _

"Sera," she said gently, reaching across the table and putting a hand on her daughter's arm. Her daughter paused in her argument with Nightlight and looked up.

"Yes Mother?"

"I understand you don't like lying to him." Oh, how the words cut her. She took a deep breath. "But sometimes, sometimes we have to keep things from those that we care about. In order to make things better in the long run." Her voice had gradually grown softer with each word that passed her lips until it finally petered out altogether. Silence reigned.

Sera nodded. There were no tears brimming in Mother Nature's eyes. She was too strong for that. So instead she simply replied, "Yes Mother."


	13. Lamentations Of A Curious Mind

**Hey everybody, sorry this took so long! I've got so much stuff I'm working on right now but I finally managed to crank it out. And, hopefully this will be followed up by another chapter sometime later in the week. Have fun reading!**

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Of all my many many many many many many many many many many many many many MANY fatal flaws, I think the two that have gotten me into the _most _trouble in my lifetime have got to be my utterly _insatiable _boredom and my curiosity, which was strong enough to kill a million cats.

Seriously. I'm like a schizophrenic obsessive-compulsive pick-pocket on crack and sugar. And that's on a _good _day.

Cupcake likes to equate my hypersensitive disposition to that of a Kender. For those of you lovely people that don't know the Dragonlance series, Kender are about the height of Hobbits, skinny as a twig and like to pick-pocket everything they see. And I _do _mean everything. See, they carry these little bags that can carry crazy amounts of stuff in them- I think they're called bags of holding, they're kind of like the Hermione bags- anyway, when they meet another Kender then dump everything out of their bags and trade it around with the other stuff and...well...I'm not here to tell you the logistics of the Kenders.

Sufficed to say, I earned another nick-name in the two weeks I managed to last before I went back to the caves.

Well...in reality it was more like nine days. What can I say, I was curious! There's a big difference between being _allowed _to explore for certain increments of time and going in whenever you feel like it to explore, which- after sitting around Cupcake's house for nine days and doing next to nothing, is a pretty fun prospect.

The first two days of being back were interesting enough; The morning of my first day back dawning a lot later for me than usual. I guess Cupcake woke up before me and decided not to fling open my door and assault me with sunlight like she had all the previous mornings before, probably thinking that I had been through enough the last few weeks and had chosen to give me a break. And by the time that I actually cranked open my eyes and lifted my head which, I'm embarrassed to say, had the imprint of the pillow crisscrossing all over my cheeks and nose, it was well past noon and she had already been gone for several hours.

I followed my usual routine of sitting up, hitting my head and swearing- this time substituting "Buggeration!" for Bollix. Heh. What can I say, I'm verbal.

Strangely, the head-bonking didn't annoy me as much as it used to. I guess the familiarity was comforting or something. Something that I missed when I was in the caves.

Interesting, I thought as I pulled myself out of my little slot in the wall until I was perched on the edge of my bed, looking out of the doorway. I stretched and twisted my back to work out the typical kinks that I normally had screwing up my back, yawning and raising my arms in a vibrant yawn which I'm pretty sure rattled the windows as it rebounded off the walls of the brightly lit room.

Then, once my body was fully awake I rubbed my eyes gingerly. They came away with little crusty bits of yellow gook and I brushed them away with my other hand. I smiled as they hit the floor soundlessly, remembering Cupcake's claim that they were bits of the Sandman's dreamsand that remained after you woke up, in case you needed to get back to sleep quickly. While it was a cute idea and I very much wished I could lay in bed and sleep the day away, I knew that it just wasn't possible.

"Too much stuff to do." I muttered, crossing the room to pick up my hairbrush and running it through my hair. In reality, I didn't have a single job to do here that wasn't purely out of boredom and the annoying moral responsibility that cropped up when I noticed the house was a mess. "I might be a freeloader," I told myself firmly, yanking the brush through my tangled nest of hair. "But at least I help clean up when it's needed."

And so, when I was done brushing my hair and with no small amount of grumbling about my evil morals, I stood and started picking up Cupcake's room. It didn't take too long. She had already picked up the majority of the stuff on the floor last night and all I really had to do was pick up a few spare articles of clothes and some papers.

I contemplated actually organizing Cupcake's room and surprising her when she got home for a bit. Then I remembered the last time I tried that and thought better of it. Cupcake hated it when her stuff got messed with. Like, she'd gotten home, took one look at her room and thrown a full-on _fit! _Screaming, tearing through her stuff and ruining all my hard work, crying buckets... yeah. It hadn't been pretty.

So instead, I headed over to Cupcake's dresser and grabbed a change of clothes- realizing at just that moment that I had forgotten to grab that bag of clothes he had gotten to me.

I shrugged to myself as I pulled out a pair of jeans and a purple shirt. "Meh. They probably didn't even fit me anyway."

I put the clothes on, then went downstairs to ooze around the house for a bit. The parents weren't around- "_Sadly_," I muttered under my breath as I tromped downstairs. Quite honestly I liked messing with Cupcake's parents. They were nice people, they treated her right and kept a clean house, but their reactions to stuff like floating cups and missing articles of clothing were positively _gut-busting!_

But the parents weren't home, and so I had to amuse myself by making the family cat- a beautiful little creature with greyish fur and bright green eyes by the name of Toki, float by picking her up and waving her from side to side. The cat didn't appreciate my kindness in showing her how to fly, and she communicated this to me by giving me a weak swipe on the arm. I put her down, hissed and she scurried off.

"Cats," I muttered. "So finicky." In about ten minutes she would be back with those woefully wide eyes and purring like a motorboat, rubbing her head under my chin and begging for attention.

It was just about that time that my stomach started growling, so I decided to fix myself something to eat. It was far too late for breakfast, so I whipped up a modest brunch consisting of toast- because you can never have too much toast, an apple, and some yogurt. The yogurt was a little old and tasted funny, but I poured some raisins and cinnamon on it and it was fine.

I noshed it all down in less than half an hour and finishing it up with a glass of OJ. When I was done, I put the dishes in the sink and plonked down on the couch. As I had expected, the cat came in and curled up right next to me, apparently having forgotten about my flight test earlier.

"Hey fluff-zilla." I murmured softly as I scratched her under the chin. She growled at my use of the nick-name. "OK, OK, I'm sorry Toki. Did you like your flight test?" She purred, nuzzling my hand with her face. "Yeah, I knew you would like it. Now, what to do to keep me occupied until Cupcake comes home."

Or, more accurately, what could I do to keep my thoughts away from a certain dark specter.

I could watch T.V, I reasoned. That was normally fun. And mind-numbingly tedious to boot! Or I could read, go on a walk, test my powers- which was something I really wanted to do to see if I could copy someone else and not just him, the possibilities were endless really. It was just a matter of me finding enough motivation to do said activities. Unfortunately, after all the crap I had endured, I wasn't really in the mood for doing anything physically or mentally strenuous.

So, instead of going outside and doing something constructive, I chose the most thought-suppressing, brain cell-destroying option: to sit on my behind with a cat on my lap, watching Scooby Doo: Where Are You.

It took me three hours before I finally got bored of all that, which was perfect timing because not five minutes after I switched the T.V off and turned around to head back upstairs to look for something else to do, Cupcake walked in through the front door. Her hair was wet and there was snow on her shoulders. Again.

"I'm home!" She called. I heard the sound of stamping and a wet boot hitting the wall as she kicked off her shoes.

"Hey kiddo, I'm in the living room." I called back, shooing the cat off my lap so that I could stand.

Cupcake peeked her head in, smiled, then entered the rest of the way. "Hey snoozer." She said.

I smirked. "Wassup soaker."

She reached up to feel her hair which was completely plastered over her head by water. "Touche." She admitted, slinging her backpack down on the couch and plopping herself down. "Man, today was brutal!" She complained. "I had to do six pages of algebra! _Six!_"

"Aww, poor baby." I said in mock sympathy, not even bothering to try and hide my slightly annoyed mood. Scooby Doo had cone absolutely _nothing _to curtail my worries about Cupcake and the Boogeyman. If anything, the constantly reoccurring plot had forced my mind to start drawing comparisons between my situation and theirs. And that _wasn't _good.

Basically, I could condense my worries into three main problems: Cupcake finding out that I had lied to her, which was first and foremost in my mind; The Boogeyman coming back and forcing me to tell Cupcake that I had lied to her, which almost terrified me more than the first one; and finally that if she did find out, that she would get super protective of me and worry _every single time _I left the house. I didn't need _that _weighing in on my conscience, not with everything else I was dealing with.

_Besides, _I reasoned with myself as I sat down on the couch beside her. _I'm a big girl. I can handle myself._

She punched me in the arm. "And what have _you _been doing all day?" She demanded in just as mocking a tone. "Sitting on _my _couch, petting _my _cat, watching _my _movies?"

I leaned back, putting my hands up behind my head and lacing their fingers smoothly. "Relaxing." I replied, smirking as I looked down on her from the bridge of my nose. "I have a stressful life you know, and it doesn't help when I wake up hours later than I'm supposed to because _someone _didn't wake me up."

Cupcake chuckled good-naturedly. "You looked tired so I thought you should sleep in a little," she told me. "I meant to go back up and wake you after I'd gotten breakfast but..." She grinned sheepishly and I could see her cheeks blushing. "I forgot to eat before I left for school."

I smiled. It was very touching how much kindness she was showing my way. I shrugged. "Eh, it's OK kiddo." I told her, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "I can always use a few extra hours of shut-eye." I yawned for emphasis and tried to sound as light-hearted and as devil-may-care as I normally did. It worked. Cupcake smiled once more and, still smiling, pulled out her math homework from her bag.

"So..." she asked as she started in on an algebra problem. "Do anything interesting today?"

I shrugged again. "Not really. Just sat here and watched TV. I tried to get your cat to learn how to fly earlier but she wasn't too appreciative."

She nodded and I could tell she was barely listening to me any more. But I didn't take it personally. Cupcake had a weird thing, I guess you could call it a talent, where she could multi-task like it was nobody's business in any area. talking and writing, talking and listening, reading and listening, working on the computer and eating, you name it she could do it. Except when it came to math. Cupcake was a math whiz. She loved it, almost as much as the pink abominations she calls plushies.

I shuddered slightly. _Brrr, plushies._

Anyway, when it came to math Cupcake had to soley focus on the problems in front of her to get them right. Otherwise she would end up with all sorts of crazy answers. It highly amused me, but Cupcake didn't like it when I distracted her on purpose.

We passed the next few hours in absolute silence, apart from the purring of Toki and the maddening tick tick ticking of the grandfather clock on the other side of the room. I just sat there, watching cartoon after cartoon and petting the cat until Cupcake announced she was done. After that, we watched about half of a movie about a little boy who lived in a Parisian clock tower before her parents came home and we were forced to turn it off.

Against Cupcake's wishes, I stuck around downstairs to give her parents a brief scare- all I did was float some plates and steal her mom's hat. Honestly. That's not scary. -and when I was done we went back upstairs. After talking and talking for hours until the hour grew late- mostly about trivial things, like the weather and her school days, we both decided to go to bed.

Last night I had been too exhausted to dream about anything but tonight was a different story. Tonight, as soon as my head hit the pillow, my mind was filled with visions of him. Pitch, Pitch Pitch. Pitch laughing, Pitch glaring at me, I couldn't get the man out of my mind!

I raised my head up off the pillow which felt like a million degrees and punched it angrily in an effort to fluff it before my head slammed back down. Nothing had changed. The damn pillow still felt like it was boiling hot and after turning it over a few times and not getting any results, I got fed up and pitched the damn thing across what little room I had. It thumped against the wall of my closet and slid down the side into the black crevice between cot and floor.

I groaned, rolling over onto my back. "Crap!" I grumbled. "Now I'm gonna have to go diving for it tomorrow morning. Probably have to fight back leigons of dust-bunnies too. _Craaaap_."

The temperature was sweltering in here. I mean it was a three foot by five and a half foot space- pretty damn small even for a closet, and it didn't help that I had to keep the door open because otherwise the light from outside would keep me up all night. Anyway, yes it was hot. So hot that by the time I finally managed to fall asleep, it was almost five o'clock in the morning. It didn't last long. Cupcake woke me up about three hours later to ask if I wanted to go to school with her.

I was half-tempted to tell her to shove off, but then I cracked my eyes open and saw the hopeful look on her face. My eyes rolled back in exasperation. "You are getting far too good at that kid." I grumbled, hauling my sorry carcass up off the bed into a sitting position. "Alright, alright I'll come with you. What time to you have to leave?"

Cupcake let out a squeal and clapped her hands for joy. For some reason she loved having me come to school with her. I had no idea why. All I did was cause trouble. "Yay!" She chirped, jumping up and down in excitement. The tremors shook my bed and I glared at her, covering my ears.

"Kid!"

"Sorry." She said, beaming at me as she gave one last little hop. "And don't worry, school doesn't start until eight fifty. We've got plenty of time to eat and stuff."

And eat we did. Because, for as little as the parents were home to take care of her, when she was home Cupcake's mom could cook bacon eggs and pancakes like nobody's business. So we- me, her, her dad and her mom all gorged ourselves until we couldn't eat any more. Of course, I had to eat subtly and most of my meal ended up in the living room where I could eat in peace, but I still managed to pack away more carbs than I had eaten in the last few weeks. The bacon alone tasted heavenly.

Once we finished breakfast, I headed back up to my room to get dressed and by that time, it was time for Cupcake to get to school. She begged me to fly her there and, well...you know how persuasive little girl eyes can be. So yes, in spite of the looks she got when I set her down near the school entrance I did fly her there.

The day followed in the typical elementary-school manner. I pestered loads of students and teachers purely out of boredom- of course I couldn't do it too obviously; That might result in her getting detention or even kicked out. And if that happened Cupcake would most certainly kill me. However, I did get a chance to put several _kick me _signs on her most annoying teachers which pleased her greatly. And, by the time we got home she was practically _skipping _across the pavement. When we got back home, we both had a light dinner of mac and cheese and then went to bed.

Yet again my dreams were filled with visions of him as soon as my head hit the pillow. Tonight, the temperature was slightly colder than before so I had no trouble actually getting to sleep. Staying asleep however, that was a different matter. I kept seeing his smile, over and over again. Just his face, beaming at me proudly, smiling coyly or even smirking evilly. I tried to think of other things, what to do tomorrow, when I should go back to helping the kids around the city and the like but it didn't matter where my mind went. Somehow, it always came back to him.

"What the hell is wrong with me?!" I asked myself after waking up for the fifth time two nights after my outing with Cupcake. It was two in the morning and I was sitting on a branch that protruded from the tree outside, looking up at the night sky while the soft, cool breeze blew across my face. I couldn't stay inside any longer; I had to get out, even if that meant just opening a window and flying a few feet. It was still better than staying in my closet-room. I felt like a cat in a cage, unable to sleep or even dream without seeing him. "_Why _do I keep thinking about him?! I mean it's not like the guy saved my life or anything!" Ok, yeah maybe he had saved my life once.

_Twice._

"Shut up." I told the voice. "You're not helping."

Yes and speaking of which, that little voice had been increasingly getting on my nerves these past few days! Normally it spoke up a lot more often and actually offered up useful ideas that actually helped me most of the time. But, since I had escaped the caves-

_Escaped my ass. You were __**set free.**_

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?!"

I _swear _I heard the voice hmph petulantly. _You yell at me when I don't help you and you yell at me when I do try to help you. Sometimes kid I don't know why I even bother._

I've gotta admit, I didn't mean to snap at that moment. I was just so frustrated with the fact that even when I was free at home, my mind was still a prisoner of those dark caves and I wanted it to end.

I sighed, pushing my damp, sweaty hair out of my face and allowing the breeze to cool me down better "I'm sorry." I murmured, looking up at the moon. "I'm just..." _Confused _was probably the closest word I could equate to what I was feeling, but even then it wasn't close.

_Conflicted? _The voice asked gently.

I shook my head before finally admitting in a voice so quiet even I could barely hear it, "Afraid."

_Ah. I see. Afraid of what, exactly?_

I let out another desperate sigh. "I don't know dammit! I- I keep seeing his face over and over again. Seeing the caves in my dreams, seeing my room I. . . I just want to forget about it!" That was it. I broke. The truth always has a way of making me lose control of my emotions, and now was no different. I had to fight hard to keep from crying.

_Well then maybe you should find out what you're afraid of. _The voice replied evenly. _If you truly don't know, the best thing is to go right down into the belly of the beast and confront your fears. I'm sure the Boogeyman would say the same._

That certainly caught my attention. "_Excuse _me?!" I asked the empty air, looking up at the moon with raised eyebrows. "Did you just say-"

_I certainly did. _It replied smugly. Then, when I went to object it continued. _Go down there child. Prove that you aren't a coward and face your fears, whatever they might be. It's something every person has to do at one time or another during their life, and you'd better do it sooner than later. _

"But- but I-" I stammered, unsure at this point if it truly was my own thoughts that were telling me this.

_But __**what? **_It challanged me. Jeez, it was almost like I could see a face outlined in the moonlight floating there in front of me, glaring at me reproachfully. _Come on kid, since when have you been too chicken to go exploring? You're Meggie, the dare-devil Changeling! Even __**I **__know that eventually you're going to give in and go back._

I raised an eyebrow. "Dare-devil Changeling? Are you sure you're not just my ego acting up? Cause I wouldn't put it past me."

The voice sounded highy amused. _I'm sure kid. Now, he will probably be out on his rounds because it's nighttime, but he won't be for long. Here's your chance! Go go go!_

"Wait, what? No, it's in the middle of the night I'm not going sneaking through those damn caves at night are you insane?!" I demanded, wondering if I was losing what little sanity I had left. "Do you remember what happened last time?!"

_Yes, I do. _It replied tersely. _And that's why you should stay in the upper part of the caves to avoid such confrontations._

I had to admit, it made a good point. "Alright," I conceded. "Alright, say I do decide to do this."

_Which you will._

"Stop being a smartass. That's my job. Now, say I _do _decide to do this. What do I _possibly _have to gain from going back there?!"

_Peace of mind?_

I contemplated smacking myself upside the head. "Besides that."

_Well, he did say something about a library, didn't he?_

If anyone were to happen by and see the look that fell upon my face at the mention at the library, I'm sure they would've seen a look of pure and undulated delight.

"So he did." I whispered, my eyes so wide at the prospect that I could almost feel them glowing in the dark. I _did _remember him saying something about a huge library, one that I had actually been hoping to visit before I left but had never gotten around to it for lack of time. The only memory I had of the library was a brief glimpse of leather-bound books on a shelf before the door had closed and the chase had begun. But now...now that I was free I might be able to slip back through those huge doors and see the books on the dark wooden shelf up close.

I could feel my eyes glazing over at the thoughts of all those books and shook my head to snap myself out of it. _No use mooning about what you can't have! _I told myself firmly. _As tempting as it is, I can't go back. If I do I'll probably end up dead or worse, trapped again! _And that I could not allow.

After a few minutes of my sitting there in the tree silently, grappling with my thoughts the voice piped up again. _So...are you going back? _

I shook my head, turning away from the moonlight. "No."

_Why not?! _The voice demanded angrily. _If you're bored here, why not take a chance and go for it?_

I didn't even give it the satisfaction of rolling my eyes. "Because." I replied flatly, leaping for Cupcake's window. I made it easily and climbed inside, shutting the window and latching it securely behind me. "If I didn't come back this time, Cupcake would never forgive me."

After that, the voice was silent and remained silent as I fell back into bed. But as I drifted off to sleep, for the sixth and final time that night, its final words of the night whispered through my mind, speaking the very thoughts which I myself as afraid to think.

_But can you forgive yourself if you do come back?_

And, with that in my mind I slowly drifted off to sleep.

I'm not going to lie, I lasted barely eight hours before I couldn't take it any longer and I had to go back.

Make no mistake, I am proud of that eight hours. It was a bloody battle to be sure, starting from the instant my glazed, sleep-encrusted eyes cracked open. It was well-past eight O'clock and Cupcake had already left for school. I followed my traditional pattern; I opened my eyes, sat up, bonked my head, swore, then headed downstairs to try and eat something but my thoughts from the night before had followed me across the void of sleep and plagued me relentlessly while I tried- and failed, to choke down a piece of toast.

Unlike yesterday when my mind was a writhing turmoil of indecision and conflict, today, all I could do was stare like a zombie out into empty space. I knew I wasn't going to be able to fight the urge to go back, it would be stupid to think otherwise, so at this point I was basically just procrastinating it until I couldn't put it off any longer.

Washing down the toast with my second cup of black coffee- Black. Pitch Bla- _NO! _No more _thinking about him dammit! _-I headed out of the kitchen and into the living room, clutching my coffee cup like a lifeline to my sanity.

_This is __**really **__starting to get on my nerves. _I thought tiredly, switching on the TV and zoning out on Courage the Cowardly Dog- which did absolutely nothing to help my situation I might add. I was on my third cup of coffee before I realized this and turned off the tube, electing to just sit there staring at the blank screen for the next half hour while thoughts continuously whirled through my head. Though sadly, they weren't thoughts of denial like I would've hoped.

_If I do it carefully I can just get in and out with no one spotting me, no problem!_

_Are you __**really **__that naive?_

Well, _some _of them were thoughts of denial. Even _without _the little voice in my head adding in its two cents I was still of two minds about the whole thing.

_Come on, you know exactly why you're wanting to go back there. _I told myself, trying not to grin in anticipation as my mind began to fabricate images of a massive vault containing hundreds of corridors, each lined with rows upon rows of books just begging for my fingers to stroke their covers and my eyes to drink in their contents. _Yes, that's exactly why._

I closed my eyes, shaking my head to try and dislodge the foolish dreams from my mind. _It's just a foolish dream. Nothing real. Nothing tangible. It's probably not even a real library._

Boy what a lie _that _was.

I sighed tiredly, flopping down on the couch with my arm tucked underneath my head while my eyes drifted lazily over the ceiling. I started tracing out patterns in the shadows, seeing people and items that had no right to be in the ceiling but I didn't care. I was trying to distract myself and I think I almost managed it, but half an hour later I couldn't stand it any more.

Letting out an exasperated cry of defeat I threw my hands up in the air and yelled, "ALRIGHT! Alright dammit I'm going! Sheesh." My voice reverberated around the empty house and, in spite of myself, I chuckled. "I'm gonna regret this, I just _know _it."

Hey, I never said I wasn't hypocritical. And, to prove this, six hours or so later I found myself standing on the edge of the casmatic entrance under a moonlit foggy sky staring down into the inky black depths, trying to see even the faintest glimmer of light but I saw none. _Damn, _I thought, kicking a small pebble over the edge and timing how long it took to fall. _It's like stepping into the lion's maw._

I wore the same clothes I had worn all day- dark blue jeans and my favorite purple shirt with a dark bronze flur de lis on the bottom right side. The only difference was that I decided to don a black coat with a hood, to make me and my illustrious hair harder to see.

As you might've guessed, my afternoon had progressed pleasantly and I hadn't gotten cold feet.

_You don't have to do this you know. You could turn back._

Yet.

I rolled my eyes but didn't speak aloud for fear my voice would carry down the tunnel. _I could've used that information a little earlier, _I groused, hitching the backpack I had pillaged from Cupcake's house earlier that day higher on my shoulders.

_You wouldn't have come otherwise._

Ugh. Headache on isle five.

_Just forget about it. _I told the voice. _I'm going, and that's that. _It was true. Once my mind was made up about something, all inhibitions flew straight out the window and my mind turned to what I could do, where I could go, and most importantly, what trouble I could get in. That's just how I was.

In fact, I could already feel myself jiggling with excitement, bobbing up and down on the balls of my feet while my fingers tap tap tapped away at my sides, drumming in a gentle rhythm. I couldn't _wait _to get down there, but I had to force myself to relax.

_I'll be down there soon enough, _I told myself, shrugging the backpack which I had borrowed, (and might have to steal from her later if she didn't use it for school) off my shoulders and fumbling it open by the light of the moon. _Gotta get my gear out first._

Sometime after my decision to take off on my madcap adventure back underground I had realized that there was no way I was coming down here again without proper tools. I also knew that, since it was daylight out and I didn't have a chance of evading the Boogeyman and his minions while he was at home, it would be a while before I was able to actually come down here. So I decided to compound my limited time into a productive series of tasks.

Basically, I ran around the house and proceeded to procure- OK, I guess the term is ransack -the house for items that I thought might come in handy and shoving them into the beautiful black and grey Jansport pack randomly. When I was done, the pack consisted of a flashlight, extra batteries, rope, duct tape, a file- don't ask me why -enough snacks to keep my high metabolism sated, a couple bottles of water, some wire, a bobby-pin and a screwdriver which were all to jimmie any locks I might come across in my sneaking, and finally a sketchpad and pencil to draw the corridors in case I got chased out before I got to my destination.

I routed around for a second, mumbling about how I should really have looked through this better before leaving the house, before pulling out the flashlight, sliding its bracelet over my wrist and switching it on. Light flooded the area, fighting back the darkness like a shield that allowed me to see only a few feet into the hole but no further. I grinned, swinging the flashlight around my wrist twice before letting it hang idly at my side and zipping up my bag.

Picking up the bag and slinging it over my shoulder, I took one last look up at the sky above me. "Wish me luck."

_Good luck. Be safe. _

"Alright," I whispered, putting my hands together and rubbing them eagerly. "Here we go." I took one step, poising my foot in the empty space between the tunnel's entrance and the ground with the flashlight in my hand. _Open the mouth, between the gums, look out tunnels, here I come._

I took the step and was instantly swallowed by the blackness.

Looking back on it, I really needn't have been as afraid of it as I was. The tunnel wasn't nearly as long as I believed it to be and all I felt was air briefly whistling around me which sent my hair- most of which was tied back in a french braid by Cupcake early in the night but some hung loose beneath the braid -billowing up above my head. I really should've put up my hood, I thought to myself as both my feet slammed into the ground and my knees buckled.

I had to lean my body up against the closest wall to keep from falling over. "Whew!" I muttered, looking up at the moon with a huge grin on my face. I _lived _for times like this. The fire of adventure was bright in my chest and I couldn't douse it now. So, instead I danced in the flames. "That was fun."

It was indeed. My chest was pounding with excitement and I had to take a few deep breaths, leaning against the wall for support before I was able to stand properly and look around. The area was almost complete blackness. The only speck of light came from the bio-luminescent mineral veins flowing through the rock.

I frowned at the flashlight glowing in my hand. I had brought it merely for the purpose of seeing in the blackness but something in the back of my head was telling me it was unnecessary. So I switched it off and headed down into the maze of darkness, completely blind apart from the eerie faint glow of the wall.

At first, I made some pretty good time and got quite far before finally tripping and falling flat on my face. I got up, swearing extravagantly. "OK, new plan. I'm gonna use the walls instead."

I groped for the sides of the tunnel and when I found it I continued on my journey, feeling my way along with the walls. It obviously made my going a lot slower but, in the long run provided an advantage that proved to be detrimental in getting me deeper into the caves.

A few minutes- or it could've been seconds as I had neglected to bring a watch -later I felt an abrupt halt in the wall I was following. I frowned, feeling gently around the corner- yes, it certainly was a corner. And a sharp one at that. I fished out my flashlight again and switched it on, only to gasp in horror as my eyes alighted on my hand which was embedded from the wrist down into the wall itself!

I yanked my hand back and it came free without a single problem, as if the rock wasn't even there. I looked at my hand, then at the wall. I couldn't have picked this out of a hundred pieces of rock. "OK, this guy's gain a little bit more respect from me." I murmured, feeling the gap which I now realized was cleverly hidden by the camouflaged stone. "But the question is, should I go through the hidden entrance?"

I had no idea what was behind door number one and, even worse, I didn't know what would find _me! _But I decided to take that chance and, steeling myself, I plunged forward.

I decided to put the flashlight on my belt again and continued on my way, feeling about the wall, just to make sure I didn't pass by any other walls as I traveled deeper into the darkness. _It feels unending, _I thought, letting my hand slide smoothly along the rough rocky walls, making sure not to miss a single indent that could be a door or an entrance. _Like a literal maze of shadows. _

Fortunately for me, all mazes end after sometime and my end was not far away. As I walked down the black corridor I could see a tiny, miniscule pinprick of light in the distance. The sight put a grin on my face and pep in my step, allowing me to travel much faster now that I knew there was light at the end of the tunnel.

_Now, question: Is the light the goal of my adventure, or a C train?_

I chuckled in spite of myself. "Oh shut up." I muttered. "Besides, how could he fit a C train underground?"

_Uh, subways dear. _

I rolled my eyes. I'm such a sarcastic little twerp sometimes. Even to myself.

The light was coming closer and closer and now I could see the vague outline of objects beyond the light. I decided to sprint the last few hundred feet and stopped, just outside the mouth of the tunnel. I peeked around the corner and saw the familiar kitchen/living room that I had walked around during those brief hours of freedom from my room. Nobody seemed to be home.

I took a tentative step forward and, when nothing rushed into the room to attack me, I felt confident enough to go further in. The Boogeyman wasn't at home- or, if he was, he wasn't in this part of his home. And it seemed all of those demon-horses that usually hung around here were either busy spreading their fear or were otherwise occupied.

It barely took any time at all for me to be comfortable enough to walk right into the room and start looking at things more closely than I had been able to before with the Boogeyman looking over my shoulder.

The first thing I did was dump my pack and hurl myself onto the couch. When I was staying here I had only been able to sit on the couch and from the first second my hand touched the material I wanted that couch. Now, I was able to bounce and jump on the couch as much as I wanted to! The couch was so comfy that I actually contemplated staying here in the living room for a bit. Then I shook my head. Nah. There was _a lot _more fun to be had deeper in.

So I picked up my pack and headed down another tunnel which I knew led down into the area where I had stayed and hopefully to the library or some other rooms that would be enough fun.

In no time I was inside my old room. The bag of clothes was still there and I took a while choosing clothes to take back with me. They were mine, after all. I stuffed them in my backpack, rolling them as tightly as I could before I headed back out again.

It was a bit like walking down memory lane. As I walked through the dimly lit corridors, the pack weighing heavily on my back my mind started to recall things that had happened in this corridor. _Hey, I think I punched him right here! Whoa, was it really here when I road the Nightmare? Yep, there's the grooves where her hooves dug into the rock. Neat. I'm pretty sure I hid here from him._

It was downright _creepy _that I was remembering this all in a fond way, but I didn't care. Water under the bridge and all that.

Unfortunately for me, I didn't get past a few hundred yards down the corridor before I was spotted. I noticed a golden eye shining in the darkness and instantly froze but it was too late. The Nightmare had already caught a whiff of my fear and my ears could clearly pick up hoof beats clattering against the rock. More than one set, if I wasn't mistaken.

"OK, I believe I've overstayed my welcome." I murmured, turning tail and booking it for the living room. I sighed. _Here we go again. _Now came the running... and screaming. Well, probably more yelling than screaming but you get my drift. In any case it was back on the yellow escape road for me. I had a vague hope that I could hide in there but my (very small) realistic side of my told me it wasn't gonna happen. "Shame. It's such a nice place. Pretty, lots of room."

_Get out!_

"Too bad we can't stay!"

With two or more Nightmares on my tail I jogged as fast as I could back up to the living room. "Shit shit shit!" I squealed, lunging for the other side of the couch and ducking as low as I could to see if I could hide from them. Lunatic that I was, I was actually enjoying this! There was something predominantly archaic about running for your life that I enjoyed _far _more than I should. However, it gave me just the right amount of energy I needed to outrace the Nightmares to the exit and as I shot up the corridor that led to the tunnel I yelled out, "I'll be back Pony-girl! You can count on that! I...will...be _back!_"

The night air felt gorgeous on my face as I soared up into the night sky, thrilled to be free from the confining space and stale, funky air of the ungerground caves. I let out a whoop of joy, then sped off back home to gloat to myself about my achievements. My heart was pounding as I silently lifted up the window and slipped inside, closing it effortlessly. After stripping off all my gear and dumping it under my cot I pulled on some PJ's and threw myself into bed,grinning madly.

"I did it." I whispered to the air. "I actually did it! Ha!"

I certainly had no trouble falling asleep _that _night.

The next day, when Cupcake asked me what I did last night I replied airily, "Oh, the usual. Walked around town, flew, scared the bejeezus out of some mangy cats in an alley, helped a few kids with their spelling."

She nodded over her bowl of cereal. "Cool, cool. Are you going out again tonight?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm gonna try to stay out late again." In truth, I was already planning my next escapade down into the caverns of the Boogeyman. I am a woman of my word, after all. And, as soon as the sun went down and Cupcake was asleep I was sneaking out through the window, intent on my destination.

The second time I sneaked in I wasn't able to stay for much longer than the first time, but at least I got a chance to explore more of the tunnels that branched off of the living room before I was chased out. It was a blast! Honestly, I loved evey bit of it, from the thrill of the chase once I was discovered to sneaking through this strange place undetected and learning about every nook and cranny that I could, all the while committing it all to memory.

The third night I got even farther and discovered a secret gym that looked like it hadn't been touched in a year or more. I played around on the machines for a while in there, committing every single detail of the place to memory and leaving only when I was seen leaving via the living room. And that was only because I had stopped to raid his fridge to see if he had anything worth eating.

By the fourth night I was so familiar with the tunnels that getting there barely took any time at all and I was able to spend several hours just exploring and learning where things were. And this time, the Nightmares didn't even find me! I had to leave because it got too close to dawn and Cupcake would miss me.

That night was also the first time I stepped inside the library. It was everything I had hoped it would be; Walls stacked floor to black ceiling with towering dark mahogany shelves full of thousands of books, each having a different shape and colored dust jacket. There were big ones bound in leather which spanned the entire length of one shelf, teeny-tiny books covered in delicate, paper-thin scarlet wrappings and even books that were somewhere in the middle, wearing unremarkable covers that were almost instantly forgotten.

I stared on wonder, gazing with wide eyes like a child in a candy store as the wonderland that befell me. Since I came back to Cupcake I had gotten in the habit of telling her bedtime stories as a way of making my time away up to her. The stories were alright, she seemed to enjoy them, but it had been a while since I had read a real, honest to goodness book. Which made a rare treat like today something that I needed to savor. And boy did I!

I spent at least six hours in that library, combing through the books and reading page after page after page. The knowledge I gained from one trip alone was immense, and it only grew as I continued to make trips down there.

By the end of the first week I got so used to the place that I could walk through the tunnels with my eyes closed and hear Nightmares coming from a hundred yards away! It wasn't even a challenge any more! I could stroll through the hallways wherever I pleased and no one would care and by the middle of the second week I had learned damn-near every inch of the caves, had mapped everywhere that I could, and knew the patrolling patterns of the Nightmares by heart.

It was a pretty cool feeling. Like I owned my own personal cavern. I could come and go as I pleased, eat as much food from his pantry as I liked, and no one bothered me. Heck, I didn't think he even knew of my presence here!

I even decided, after a week or so when I had looked through almost the entire library, to try out the TV in the living room and, once again, raid his fridge. Strangely, no Nightmares were around that night so I allowed myself to relax a little. I popped in a dvd and switched on the tube, then flopped down onto the couch. The movie was adequate, something about green aliens and talking raccoons. I wasn't too impressed, but the night was fun and I enjoyed it so much that I did it again the next night and again the next. And never once got caught. Things were going better than they had in a long, long time. And I thought they would last like this forever.

And then came that one day. The day I will never ever, in a million years or however long I live, forget.

It happened just two weeks after I first started exploring. I was following my nightly ritual of saying goodnight to Cupcake, grabbing my gear– which, after days' worth of trial and error during my various trips and escapades I had finally concentrated into a small, helpful knapsack of items that I actually _used _instead of just stuff I might use eventually –and heading back down into the depths of the caverns to watch TV, as I had already exhausted his vast array of movies some time ago and had now taken to using TV shows as background music for reading.

Tonight's show was supposed to be something about American ninjas but when I got there, I found the TV had already been switched on. A big bowl of pop-corn sat on the couch, all buttered-up and ready to go. I had just only recently learned of the flavorful nirvana that was popcorn from Cupcake, but I knew enough to recognize that it had been freshly popped. That right there was a sign that I should leave and not com back for a while but me being the curious little twit I was I decided to keeping going because I wanted to see if whoever had made the popcorn was still around.

He was.

I crept forward slowly, keeping my body as low to the ground as possibly while I scanned the area for a familiar spiky silhouette. I was so busy looking for a hidden enemy that I didn't notice the one who was standing right behind me until I heard his smooth voice. And when that happened I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"You're a curious one, aren't you?"

I didn't even have to think about it to know who it was. I spun around and leaped for the tunnel mouth but he was already there, standing with his hands stretched out towards me. _Shit shit shit! I was just starting to get used to this! Why_ did it have to be now?! I didn't even feel the nightmare sand around my ankles until I was falling. I braced myself for the hard impact of stone but was even more surprised to feel two strong around around me, catching me in their warm embrace.

"Hey now, easy. Easy Meggie."

I stiffened. How did he know my name?! Then my common sense smacked me upside the head and I remembered sheepishly. _Oh yeah, right. The book._

I looked up at him. "Let me go Boogerman," I told him coldly in the best nasty voice I could muster. 'Or so help me I will turn this cavern into a flooded wreckage, ruining all of your stuff and effectively leaving you homeless."

He gave me an amused smile. "Well that would be a silly thing to do. Then you wouldn't be able to use my television or eat my food." The guttural growl that I gave him in response only made his smile widen. "Easy now child, you're in no trouble. In fact I'll even take the cuffs off your ankles," he snapped his fingers and I felt the cold chains around my ankles fade. He lifted me underneath my arm pits and stood me up carefully, keeping his hands on my shoulders. He nodded, satisfied. "There we are."

I glanced behind him, wondering if I could make a break for it. This was what I had been afraid of since the first day I went down here but, now that it had actually happened, I wasn't actually afraid. Of all things, I was curious. I wanted to know why he had been waiting for me this whole time. Almost as if he was laying a trap for me.

He caught my gaze and smiled. "Oh, now I don't think you want to be doing that Meggie." He told me gently. "Not when you're already here."

I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean?" I asked suspiciously.

He took hold of my arm and gently steered me towards the couch. "Well I mean you went to all this trouble to get here. After all that the least I can do is let you watch something with me. Look, I even made popcorn."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're inviting me to sit down and watch TV with you?" I asked, not believing a word of it.

"And have popcorn." He added. I gave him a dower look. "What? Can't I offer a night of idle relaxation to a fellow spirit?" He asked, grinning.

I almost groaned. He was laying the charm on thick wasn't he? "Alright, what's the gag?" I demanded, folding my arms and giving him an unimpressed look.

He raised an eyebrow and I wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face. "The gag?" He asked innocently.

I nodded. "Yes. The gag. The gimmick. What's the deal? What're you trying to pull?" I was going to have the truth about what was going on and I was going to have it now!

Pitch sighed. "Alright, fine." He agreed tiredly. "Let's go sit down."

I did as he asked, taking the closest seat to the exit, knowing that if worst came to worst I could always hop up and leave before he had a chance to catch me. He took the other end of the couch and we just stared at each other for a while before he spoke.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot."

I threw my head back and laughed uproariously. I couldn't help it! The flat, matter-of-fact way he said it was so bloody hilarious that I erupted into a fit of thunderous mirth! "Jeez," I choked out through my laughter. "Ya think?"

He nodded. "Yes yes, laugh it up child." He told me curtly, though I could still see the smile playing around his lips. "But the fact remains, I do believe we got off on the wrong foot and want to make up for that."

My laughter abruptly stopped and I stared at him, wondering if I heard him right. "Wait, what?"

He folded his arms over his chest and told me in careful, slow tones, "Listen, I will not apologize for my actions in bringing you down here. I did that because I was worried for your sake and I will not apologize for that."

I snorted. "Great start there chief."

He gave me a quick glare before forging on resolutely. "What I _will _apologize for, however," he continued and I found that he was looking me straight in the eyes this time. "Is keeping you down here when I knew you didn't want to be here. And I am so sorry for that." He reached across with his long arm and before I knew it, I felt his hand over-encompassing mine. I looked down. His single hand was so massive it totally covered both of mine. "Meggie," his voice was almost inaudible and I found myself staring into those bright eclipse eyes, unable to look away. "I want to make is up to you. This is my way of doing that."

I sighed. Well, if he was really serious about this. Hell, who was I to turn down free food and a few episodes of tv?

"Alright," I told him exasperatedly, throwing up my hands and rolling my eyes, purely for the sake of show. "Alright, I guess I'll watch some tv with you. It's not like I have anything else to do." I muttered to myself, turning away from him and grabbing a handful of popcorn, stuffing my face unceremoniously.

He nodded, grinning like a loon. "Good, great. That's good."

I rolled my eyes. _What a schmuck. _I thought, chomping down on another handful of popcorn. _I can't believe I'm doing this. _

The tv show ended up being a lot more amusing than I thought it was. Basically it showed a bunch of buff guys and gals doing insane stunts on an obsticle course that really looked like it would be fun to jump around on. It went on for a long time though, and by the time the first commercial break came on half an hour had gone by.

As soon as the music ended for the show Pitch stood up and stretched. "Ah," he said contentedly, lacing his fingers and popping them with ease. "That's much better. I find that I cannot sit down for very long without needing to stand at least once." He told me.

I shrugged. "I can sit for hours." I replied idly. It was true. I could read for hours and hours without taking breaks. And I enjoyed it as much as anything. There was something insanely peaceful about not moving for long periods of time and I tried to do it whenever I could in order to calm my hyper tendencies.

He nodded politely before picking up the empty popcorn bowl. "Would you like some more?" He offered but I declined. I had finished over half of the popcorn in the bowl and as such was completely stuffed. He shrugged and took the bowl to the sink, then came back to the living room.

We sat in silence for another few minutes, listening to that _extremely obnoxious _daisy sour cream commercial that made me want to strangle myself before Pitch spoke again.

"So, why did you come back?"

I didn't even have to think about it. "There's free food." It seemed like an accurate statement and was actually the truth to me, though he obviously saw through it.

"Spirits don't need food to survive Meggie." Pitch told me gently.

I pursed my lips but said nothing. He was giving me that _you have no idea what you're talking about, _look again and was seriously endangering his nose of being broken by me. _Smartass._

The show came back on again and I couldn't help but gasp at the first guy that was running. His hair looked like a curly mass of black awesomeness and when he reached the end of the course, only to fail on the warped wall both Pitch and I let out a disappointing groan.

"Oh, that was _ridiculous _he should've been able to reach the top before the time went out!" Pitch complained, gesturing at the tv petulantly. "How absurd."

I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, the try limit stinks too. I don't understand the purpose behind that." The episode was being recapped on-screen and when it came to the part where the guy messed up I leaned forward, watching intently. "There," I pointed. "Right there. That is ridiculous." The narrators zoomed in and slowed down the shot just enough to show how his hands slipped.

"I agree. It's impossible for someone with that much body-mass to pull themselves up an incline that deep!" Pitch replied, flopping back onto the couch and looking none to pleased with the outcome of the episode. "That is a ridiculous way to lose when he was so close!"

"Indeed." I agreed. We were both looking at each other, my gaze had been wandering without purpose as I tried to figure out how far Huston was from here and whither I could get there in time before they re-assembled it for the next qualifying round but as it settled on his eyes I found myself amused by how we had both agreed about something and, unexpectedly, I laughed.

Pitch appeared to jave been thinking the same thought because as I laughed, he decided to join me in ecstatic mirth which just made me laugh all the more. When we had laughed ourselves out and ended up smiling stupidly at each other

"You know," Pitch said after a while. I glanced up at him. "My offer still stands."

I raised an eyebrow, asking a silent question.

"About helping you." He clarified. "And you staying here with me. Now I understand that you might not want to accept-" he added quickly, raising a hand when I opened my mouth to shoot him down. "But please, hear me out. Think about what you could gain from living here!"

I let out a sigh of infinite patience. "Well, it's not like I can stop you, so go ahead." I told him, waving my hand.

Pitch smiled. "Atta girl. But seriously now, there is so much you can learn from being here! Not just from me but from my family too! They can teach you everything you'll need to know about being a spirit."

My eyes snapped to his face. "What?"

He nodded excitedly. "Yes, I have a family!" Good gods he looked like he was going to erupt from excitement. "My girlfriend, my grandson, my brother and more annoying cousins than I can count!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Big family." I commented, smiling.

Pitch nodded again. "Yes, and you can meet all of them! I'm sure you and Jack will get into loads of trouble together! It's true none of my family are shape-shifters, but I think I have a way to help fix that too! Look," he paused, rifling down in the cushions for something. When he pulled out a book, my attention instantly snapped to the book. "Here, take it." He passed it to me and I took it hesitantly. There was no title on the cover, and this didn't look like one of the books I had been reading in the library.

I frowned, turning it over. "What's this supposed to be?" I inquired of him.

He gestured for me to open it and I did. As soon as the pages opened up for me I was slammed with a huge tsunami of shapes, diagrams, notes and wave upon wave of text. I forced myself to sift through it, looking for a recognizable phrase that wasn't complete greek and as I did so, one word shone out through the miriad of dazzling words.

Shape-shifting.

My eyes widened. "Is this..." I looked up at him, not daring to ask the question aloud.

he took the book back gently. "Yes indeed. It's a book all about shape-changers, just like you. And you will have full access to it and all the other books in my library, if you stay here."

I rolled my eyes. "Dude, I've been pilfering your library for weeks and you didn't notice a thing." I told him, waving a hand dismissively.

He barked out a laugh. "My dear I knew you were coming down here from the first day you tried it." He shot back, grinning at the look of annoyance on my face. "You have very little faith in my Nightmares' ability to catch an infiltrator."

I nodded my head in an inclination of a point scored.

He leaned forward, all business once again. "Please," he said gently, laying the book in my hands. "Just give me another chance. I will not keep you here I swear to the moon, I won't try to invade your privacy and if you so choose to leave at any time I _will not _stop you."

I decided to give it a serious think. Honestly, it was a very tempting offer. a much more roomy room, free food that I didn't have to sneak under Cupcake's parents' noses, and more books than I have ever read in my life; hell the more I thought about it, the more it sounded like heaven.

I snapped out of my own thoughts and turned my gaze straight towards him. "You won't try to keep me here?" I asked suspiciously.

He shook his head vehemently. "Absolutely not. You'll be free to come and go as you please, as I said."

"And I'll have access to the library?"

He nodded again. "Within the confines of reasonable restraint yes."

I went to ask another question but he beat me to it.

"Listen, I will allow you everything I've promised, and more. If you promise to obey the rules of my home and, if you will not obey them, then at the very least respect them, as I have respected you." He told me firmly. "That's the deal, take it or leave it."

I shrugged, my mind made up. "Sure, why not!" I told him with a resigned sigh.

Pitch raised an eyebrow. "You don't sound too happy about your choice. This is completely up to you, you know. And unless you have another place to stay…"

"I do if I need to!" I said a little too quickly because I saw that he didn't believe me. Then I sighed. "Alright," I told him, smiling. "I'll stay. For a little while, at least."

He didn't whoop for joy, he didn't clap his hands in celebration. He simply smiled. It was a good smile. A real, honest to goodness smile.

And it wasn't going to be the last one I would see from him either.


	14. Pinfeathers And Gullyfluff

**Hi everybody, here's the next chapter. I am seriously bummed about the lack of reviews but that's alright with me and I just hope you all like this chapter. I truly do write for my readers more than myself and as such dedicate this chapter to my readers. Have fun!**

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Boring was very rarely a word used to describe the Boogeyman's life. And with good reason. For when you are part of the Guardians, _nothing _is truly boring. Even before he had joined up with the Guardians, when he did damn near the same thing day after day for ten thousand years, it still didn't seem truly boring because he loved doing it. And, as they say, if you love a job you'll never work a day in your life. They also say, however, that work can take your mind off of just about anything.

That last part, as Pitch found in the days following Meggie's release, was not true in the slightest. Even so, they had still been just as eventful for Pitch as they had been for Meggie herself.

He woke up on the morning following the trip to the moon in his bed with a dry mouth, and an aching back, and a rather disgruntled disposition. Pitch yawned, his face buried in his black pillow and it took him a few minutes of being conscious before he actually got up the energy to sit up. His hair was a mess, as per usual, but at least his body felt much better than it had the following day.

_Probably due to Sandy's dreamsand, _he thought, pushing the covers back and standing. He had learned some time ago he was actually susceptible to dreamsand, now that the Fearlings were gone which was very good for his sanity indeed, especially in the recent weeks.

He stretched his freakishly long arms wide, letting out an earth-shattering yawn and then sighing in contentment as he felt all the old joints popping and clicking back into place. "Haven't had a good night's sleep like that in ages," he said to himself, reaching for a clean robe which was hanging in the open closet. Even with dreaming about her.

Her of course meant Meggie. No surprised there. He had known the minute his head hit the pillow that his mind would be filled with thoughts of her, just as it was now. Make no mistake he still retained his realistic attitude of the previous night- that Meggie was gone and there was no way he was going to see her unless she wanted to be seen and there was no use moaning over it -but in the same token he still couldn't help worrying about her.

The robe fit snugly and he ran a quick hand though his rakish hair, instantly sliding the feathery spikes back into place before he headed down to his kitchen to make himself some breakfast. He was _starving!_

The kitchen was in its usual state of impeccable cleanliness and Pitch had barely been in there a few minutes before the sweet sound of sizzling bacon could be heard echoing throughout the caves and the scent of eggs reached his nostrils.

Pitch hummed a little tune while he cooked, tapping his long, meticulously groomed fingernails on the counter top while he waited and matching the beat with the pop of the grease. A couple of curious Nightmares came in to see what he was doing, as they weren't accustomed to their master cooking. He showed them the pan but they shied away when the grease began to pop.

"That's what I thought." He told them, chuckling.

Only when he was done did he realize he had made too much for one person to eat.

Pitch sighed. "It's going to take me a while to get used to that," he murmured, sliding his portion onto a place and leaving the rest in the pan on the stove on no heat. Maybe one of the Nightmares would eat it later. "Not cooking for her too."

Sighing, he poured himself a cup of coffee and, taking the cup and the plate, headed to his couch to eat. It was going to take him a long, _long _while to get used to doing things for one person again. He knew he would get over it eventually, but for now he would just have to deal.

Pitch ate in silence, poking at his eggs idly until they were cool and periodically sipping his coffee. The time, according to his grandfather clock, was half past eleven and he knew he really shouldn't just be sitting here doing nothing, but at the same time he didn't really have anything else to do. The girl was gone, there was no one he wanted to see right now- maybe Tooth later, but not now.

Then, completely out of the blue as if she had heard him thinking her name, Pitch heard a familiar voice calling his name.

"Pitch? Love are you awake?"

His eyebrows arched as he swiveled to face the sound of the voice. "Tooth?" He called.

She emurged from the mouth of the tunnel leading up to the surface, a smile on her face and her feathers gleaming radiance in the dim light of the caves. She scanned the area briefly before her amethyst eyes alighted on him and she sent a beam that instantly warmed his heart his way before rising up off the floor and flying over to him. She greeted him with a kiss.

"Hey love," she said, wraping her thin arms around his torso and giving him a gentle hug. "How are you?"

"Fine," Pitch replied automatically. His mind was trying to figure out why she was here but the warmth of her body against his kept distracting him. "You?"

Tooth pulled away, shrugging in that adorable little way he loved so much but hadn't been reminded of until now. "Oh, I'm doing good. Tired, over-worked, but that's just a normal day for me." She pulled him over to the couch and they sat down. She curled up like a cat, leaning against his chest with that brilliant white smile gleaming up at him.

Pitch felt an amused smile creeping across his features. "So, what brings you down here?" He asked, putting his arm around her shoulder and cradling her close. It felt good to have her in his arms again.

She rolled her eyes. "Do I _need _a reason to see my boyfriend?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. Her expression indicated amusement but there was a subtle hint in her voice that screamed warning to Pitch.

Pitch quickly back-tracked. "No no, of course not sweetheart." He kissed her for good measure. "I'm just surprised to see you is all."

She shrugged again as if it wasn't all that surprising. "Well I heard from Sera that you had a rough night last night and wanted to come over to surprise you." She replied, beaming. "I was going to make you breakfast but," She paused, glancing at the pan of eggs on the counter. "It seems you've already had it."

Pitch tried not to raise his eyebrows. Sera had told her? Interesting. And she still pretended not to know anything about the last year. Very interesting indeed. The smile never left his face as he unhooked his arm from around her shoulders. "You can have that," he offered, gesturing to the pan. "Coffee too. I already had mine."

Tooth beamed and kissed him on the cheek. "You're so sweet, thank you!" She stood and Pitch watched her as she siphoned the food off onto her own plate and came back to sit with him. She skewered a piece of sausage with a fork and brought it to her lips. "Mmm, that's good." She told him. "I didn't know you were such a good cook!"

Pitch shrugged modestly. "Only when I want to be." He replied.

They made idle chit-chat for a while, talking about how things were going with their respective jobs and how the rest of the family was. Jack was apparently doing good, flying around and making a nuisance of himself like normal. North and Sera's relationship- which hadn't really progressed any in the last year because of Kozmotis's prescience and the fact that both of them were content with their current situation. Sandy, Aster and the others were well, as he had guessed. All in all, nothing much seemed to have changed.

"Hey, I've got an idea!" Tooth exclaimed after a few minutes of silence. "Why don't you come back with my and spend the rest of the day at my Palace? I was heading back that way anyway, and you need to get out of these dingy caves for a while."

Pitch shrugged. Truth be told, he had been thinking about leaving the caves for a while as well. Maybe going to visit Jaime or the Pole but the Tooth Palace seemed to be a much better bet than either of those places for a peaceful afternoon. "Alright." He agreed. "But we'll have to take an alternative means of transportation. The shadows aren't exactly favoring me right now."

Tooth gave him a funny look but didn't comment. "OK then. Do you have any snowglobes?"

He nodded. "Yes I do."

It was a simple matter of getting the globe from his room and an even simpler matter of smashing it to activate the portal. Pitch held Tooth tightly as they stepped through, still not entirely sure about North's means of transportation. How on earth was a _snowglobe _supposed to move you across the world, after all? At least shadow-travel made _sense!_

They re-appeared in Tooth's bedroom and Pitch almost asked if they could just stay in there for a while, but then thought better of it. Tooth grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards the outside, babbling about how he hadn't seen her training room yet and how he would love it. Pitch followed her with a humoring smile on his face, but after several trips up and down stairs it actually turned out to be worth it.

Pitch whistled as Tooth pushed the door open, revealing a massive room, bigger than even North's training yard! There were thousands of different types of swords mounted on brackets on the walls- from Katanas to Toledo, to Kukri knives and, out of the corner of his eye he spotted a silver handled Katar!

"Damn," he murmured, reaching up to trail a hand along the blade of one of the fencing sabers. "These are beautiful Tooth."

Tooth beamed. "I know, I'm so proud of them!"

They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing various weapons and their uses. Tooth was of the firm belief that knives and swords were for defense mostly and shouldn't be used to hurt other people. Pitch agreed, but also believed swords and knives were a more honorable weapon and as such should be the only weapons used for attack instead of guns.

The discussion went on and on, breaking off briefly at random intervals when Tooth took down certain weapons to show him, and it was very nearly nighttime before Pitch was able to conceed the point and kissed her on the cheek. "I have to go." He told her gently, holding her in a warm embrace. "Today was fun, thank you for it."

She nodded and kissed him back. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." She told him, straightening the front of his robes. "Now, go out and help the children and I might have a surprise waiting for you when you get back."

Pitch rolled his eyes. "Tease." He murmured, wishing that he didn't have to let her go but, unfortunately he did have a job to do. So he left her to her own devices and headed out into the night to spread his Nightmares in the hopes that he would actually do some good to the world.

And good he did. By the time he was back in Burgess eight hours later, he had helped twenty children from all over the globe face their fears for good and was feeling pretty good about himself as he touched down on the roof of the Bennett household.

Dusting his fingers of the nightmare sand that had thankfully not put up much of a fight in transporting him across the world, Pitch straightened up and looked around. The night was quiet and, without even thinking about his previous interactions with the boy he walked deftly over to the bump on the far side of the roof that indicated a window frame and lowered himself down on another plate of Nightmare sand. The window still had some light in it and through it he could see a little boy sitting at a desk with his back facing him.

Pitch rapped smartly on the window and the boy inside jumped. Pitch chuckled to himself as he watched the boy spin around, recognize him, then fold his arms over his chest and walk slowly towards him with a scowl on his face.

The window opened and Jamie stuck his head out. "Pitch, don't do that! You'll scare me to death!"

He chuckled. "Oh please Jamie, that was nothing." He replied, waving a dismissive hand as the boy pulled back to let him inside. "You should've seen me in my prime."

Jamie rolled his eyes and sat down on his bed, regarding the Boogeyman placidly. Pitch glided over to the vacant chair and sat down. Well, at least the boy was _talking _to him this time. "So," Jamie said, folding his arms over his chest once again. Pitch had noticed he tended to do this when he was upset or angry. "What can I do for you Pitch?"

Pitch raised an eyebrow. _So this is how Tooth must've felt earlier. _He thought, making a mental note to apologize to her. _I just hope I wasn't as hostile. _"What? Can't I just stop in and see my first believer?"

Jamie didn't even dignify that with an answer.

Pitch's eyebrows arched even higher. "Jamie, if you have a problem with me I should like to know about it." He told the boy calmly.

Jamie shook his head and murmured, "Nothing."

The Boogeyman gave him a hard look. "Jamie..."

"It's nothing!" The boy repeated angrily. "I'm fine!"

Pitch sighed. Now, keep in mind that he didn't actually know all that much about children. Jamie had been one of the only children he had talked to- apart from Jack and Meggie, but they were immortal. And teenagers. So yes, Pitch barely had any experience in dealing with actual children.

Which made his next decision all the more strange.

He reached across the bed, grabbed the boy and started tickling him!

Jamie, completely caught off guard, let out a squeal like a little girl and rolled over onto his side to get away from Pitch. "What the heck Pitch?!" He yelped, rolling away from the Boogeyman's spidery fingers as they skittered across his sides.

Pitch was grinning what Tooth affectionately called his 'vampire grin'. "Children don't need to frown so much." He replied simply, going for Jamie's armpits which instantly made the boy crack up. "You'll get wrinkles."

Jamie tried to swat his hand away but he was laughing too hard. "G-g-go away!" He stuttered, trying to remain serious but it was severely difficult to be straight-faced when you were being tickled by the Boogeyman. "C-come on Pitch, leave off!"

Pitch decided to switch tactics. He moved one hand up to the boy's neck and ran his fingers along the exposed skin, inciting another yelp from Jamie and his neck almost snapped back as he tried to shield it from other tickle-attacks. "Never!" He crowed.

Jamie tried to turn over onto his back but Pitch knew how to thwart that tactic. Snapping his fingers he let a tendril of nightmare sand slip out of his sleeve and into the collar of Jaime's shirt. Jaime let out a cry that was both parts mixed joy and shock as the tendril wove its way over his stomach and up into his arm pits, tickling him mercilessly.

Pitch pulled back, letting the tendril do its work as he stood by the bed with his arms folded, watching Jamie thrash and squirm while the relentless nightmare sand tickled him to the point of making his eyes run with mirthic tears, giggling all the while. In fact they were both laughing. Pitch let out one of his barking laughs, followed by a burst of amused chuckled.

"W-why are you doing this?!" Jamie demanded, still making an effort to sound serious, even in the face of being tickled by the Boogeyman.

"I don't know!" Pitch answered He was laughing just as hard as the boy and he tried to curtail it so that he could speak coherently. "Ahem. However, if you'll stop frowning and tell me what's the matter," he replied calmly, trying not to chuckle as Jamie gave him a death-glare. "I will call my sand off."

Jamie struggled to sit up while the and was still working its way through his shirt and making it virtually impossible for the boy not to giggle but somehow he managed it. "Alright!" He yelled, throwing up his arms in defeat and flopping back onto the bed. "Alright I give up!"

Pitch smiled, calling off his sand with another snap of his fingers. The sand shot out of Jaime's shirt through the right sleeve and disappearing up his own sleeve. "There, that's better." He said, folding his arms over his chest and looking pleased with himself. He took a seat beside the boy who was still trying to fight the laughter that had plagued him. "Now, what's wrong Jamie?"

The boy had a much more commonplace smile on his face now and, try as he might, a frown refused to mar it. He sighed, still smiling. "Nothing is wrong with me Pitch." He replied. Pitch arched an eyebrow and raised his fingers, getting ready to snap the sand back into being but Jamie held up his hands. "Wait wait, hear me out!"

His hand was lowered.

Jamie let out a sigh of relief. "Whew. I don't think I could handle another tickle-attack like that." He admitted.

Pitch chuckled. "Good. Now tell me what is going on." He turned towards Jamie and sat, cross-legged with his hands resting on his lap, his attention fixed on the boy as he patiently waited.

"Alright." Jamie rolled his eyes and grumbled something about extortionist shadows before he continued. "I said nothing's wrong with me, and I meant it. I'm actually worried about...Sophie."

Pitch nodded wisely. "Ah, so the truth comes out at last. What brand of trouble has the little ankle-biter, as Bunnymund so eloquently calls her, gotten herself into today?"

Jamie shook her head. "It's nothing she did." He elaborated. "It's something _I'm_ doing."

Pitch frowned. "And what, pray tell, is that?"

"I-" Jamie gulped. Goof gods, the boy was shaking! He could feel the fear suddenly rolling off the boy in waves. "I'm making up stories." He finally admitted.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm making up stories." Jamie repeated. "About...about you guys and the spirits and...and other things." He finished lamely.

_Making up stories. _Pitch mulled over the phrase in his thoughts. Interesting way of putting it. "Children hear bedtime stories every night Jamie." He told the boy dismissively. "Why should these be any different?"

"They're different." Jamie muttered ruefully. "Because..."

"Because?" Pitch prompted gently.

Jamie let out a sigh of regret, as if he truly did not want to say the words that were swimming around in his thoughts, begging to be let loose. "Pitch please, it's not important so can we _please _just let it go?" He didn't even sound angry anymore as he pleaded for Pitch to forget it. Just like a parent trying to get a child to forget a broken toy.

_Oh moon, he's giving me the wide eyes again. _Pitch thought with an inward groan as the boy looked at him, his every expression _begging _for him to forget it. _But I won't_. He told himself firmly as he began to speak. _Everyone needs someone to talk to eventually. Even little human boys._

"Jamie," he told the boy patiently, putting his hands on his shoulders and looking him straight in the eyes. "Truth isn't something that can be bottled up inside you. It has to come out sometime, because otherwide it'll just sit inside your mind and body, festering and rotting like a dead animal carcass, then warping and shifting as other 'truths' come to light until it's not truth any more and it poisons you from the inside. Believe me," he added, smiling slightly as he remembered Tooth's lectures inside his Chukra on truth. "I know. And the longer you wait, the more it will hurt when it comes out."

He spoke calmly, trying his best to maintain the boy's gaze. He wanted this to make sense, above all. Not just for it to be one of those things an adult tells a child because it was for posterity's sake.

Jamie didn't answer for a long time while they stared at each other. Pitch's gaze remained unwavering but Jamie occasionally glanced around or down at his shoes. It felt like ages before the boy spoke again.

"When I was nine," he began. "My family got into a huge car accident."

Pitch nodded but didn't comment.

"We were coming home from the hospital with Sophie. She had just been born. Dad was driving and it was raining hard. The hospital was up on top of a hill near the end of town and a little ways higher up on the hill was a logging camp. Semi's were always going up and down that hill." Jamie took a deep breath. "One of the huge trucks that was carrying lumber down the hill for the mill in the next down over, their brakes went out. We were in front."

Pitch closed his eyes, knowing what was coming next. He had always wondered what had happened to Mr. Bennett. Jamie never talked about him, and from what he saw of her the mother was always too busy working to pay much attention to their children.

"The truck hit us like a hammer, sending mom's car flying forward off the road. We broke through the railing and fell off the hillside, sliding down the muddy embankment until we hit a tree. We were upside down. The truck followed us." Jamie's eyes were glistening with held-back tears now. Pitch could see them, pooling in the corners of his eyes. "The gas tank exploded half-way down the hill while it rolled over and over again, like a bouncy ball. A piece-" he hiccuped. "A piece of metal came flying through the windshield and hit dad in the chest."

Pitch didn't even realize he had moved until he found his arms around the boy, hugging him close. "There there Jamie," he whispered, holding the crying child. "It's alright. you don't have to tell me any more if you don't want-"

But the boy continued regardless. "The ground was slick and muddy like a swamp. Mom told us to try and get out but our doors were blocked by the tree. We started to tip one way, then another before gravity finally sent us sliding down the hill. The truck slammed into the tree and broke it, but it stopped there. We kept going. I threw myself across Soph to protect her and mom had the airbag, so we didn't get too banged up on the way down. Mom called nine-one-one and they came and got us, but dad was already dead."

Pitch sighed. "And this is where the storytelling comes in I'm guessing?"

Jamie nodded. "She was so little that she doesn't remember it. Mom made me promise not to tell her what happened, in case she might feel reportable for it whens he was older. But then, a few weeks ago she asked me for the first time where dad is and, well I had to tell her something!" He pulled away from Pitch and threw up his hands exasperatedly.

"Just tell me what you told her." Pitch said calmly. "Don't think, just tell me."

The boy hung his head with a bitter laugh. "That's the thing Pitch." He replied. "I kept changing it. At first I made him out to be a traveling Journalist kind of person who needed to be gone across the world a lot. Then I told her he was more like a soldier and was away defending a foriegn country, then I told her he was an archeologist and...yeah. You get the picture." He finished, sniffing.

Pitch nodded. "Yes. But why is this such a problem? Surely only you and your mother know the truth." He was trying to ask why Jamie was so worried about telling Sophie these harmless little lies. Was it because he didn't like lying to her, even if she didn't understand him? Or was it because the lies themselves were too painful for him to utter.

Jamie shook his head. "No, the whole town knows how dad died. Half of the people that live in this town were there. And since Sophie's been going to preschool for the last few months, the older kids are telling her stuff like 'I wonder how your mom makes it with two kids and no man.' Cruel stuff. Stuff I would deck them for it I could."

Pitch saw Jamie's hands clench into fists and he placed his hand on the boy's. "Jamie, trust me when I say that your little sister will never ever have to deal with bullies as long as she resides here in Burgess." He promised firmly. His mind was already reeling as he contemplated what horrors he would enact on Sophie's tormentors.

Jamie managed a small smile. "Thanks Pitch." He said gratefully. "But it's not just that."

"Then what is it?" Pitch asked patiently.

He shrugged. "Well, you know how adults start telling kids to grow up around the time they get to be my age?"

The Boogeyman rolled his eyes. "Indeed I do. And if adults could see us I would do away with that misconception that only children can believe in magic altogether."

Jamie chuckled. "I would like to see that. Anyway, I'm just starting to get to that age when people tell me fairy tales aren't real and I don't want her to go through that. So I started telling her stories about you and the Guardians and figure that if she believes that you guys really are just fairy tales, it won't be so hard on her when this happens."

Pitch thought about if for a while. "Your logic seems sound enough." He answered after a while. "But you've forgotten one simple thing Jamie."

Jamie raised his head. "What's that?" he was curious, in spite of himself.

"Belief." Pitch answered, smiling. It was slightly obvious, but he didn't tell Jamie that. "It comes in all shapes and sizes, but one of the most fundamental ways of spreading belief is that of telling stories."

Jamie smacked himself upside the head. "Good grief I'm such an idiot!" He groaned, flopping backward on the bed. "I should've known that would happen! Grah!"

Pitch's smiled widened. "Calm down Jamie," he soothed the boy. "Perhaps this was for the best. Children need belief to grow into good people and, the more she believes, the stronger she will be. Innocence is a gift that is often taken lightly for how powerful it is. And sometimes people don't get as enough time to appreciate it as they should."

Thankfully, Jamie seemed to take his advice to heart because he simply sighed and nodded. "You're right. You're right I shouldn't stifle her childhood, just because I'm afraid."

"Fear is a necessary part of living, just like all things." Pitch counseled him wisely. "Especially belief. People fear what others believe, and people believe in what others fear. And above all, people fear what they don't understand. Remember that Jamie."

Jamie nodded. "I will. Thanks Pitch." He opened his arms and the Boogeyman pulled him into another warm hug. "Thanks for everything."

Pitch smiled. "Any time Jamie." He replied before pulling away. "Now, it's late and you need to go to sleep." He stood up, allowing the pajama clad boy to pull back his covers and snuggle down underneath them. It was an oddly chilly night for so late in the summer.

Pitch bid the boy a goodnight, promising to tell Sanderson that his favorite little boy wanted a good dream tonight before taking his leave but as he reached the window and pushed it open, Jamie's hesitant voice stopped him.

"Hey Pitch?"

Pitch turned around. The boy was sitting up again "Yes Jamie?"

Jamie was looking in his direction, but Pitch got the feeling he wasn't looking quite at him. More over his shoulder slightly, as if he was nervous to speak the words he uttered next. "Say...say something went wrong in your life. Say you had a problem and you finally came up with a solution to it, but it will hurt a lot. But it'll also help a lot of people and you in the long run."

Pitch sighed tiredly. "Jamie it's late, and you need to be asleep."

"Just humor me!" Jamie insisted. "Please Pitch, just answer me and I'll go right to sleep! Scouts honor!"

"I wasn't aware you were a boyscout Jamie." He replied wryly.

"Just answer me! Would you use that solution?"

"Yes." Pitch answered, not even thinking about it.

"Any means?" Jamie pressed him urgently. "Even if it meant potentially putting yourself through a painful trial which you had already gone through?"

Again, he answered without thinking. "Of course." He replied. "If it meant helping someone else and patching things up, yes. I would do it."

"And would you be happy?"

That question caught Pitch a little off guard. "What?"

"Would you be happy?" The boy asked again. "Would you gladly suffer for someone you love? And then be willing to forget all about it?"

Pitch let out a slow, deep breath. "Is this about your father, Jamie?" Jamie gave a non-committal shrug that Pitch took for a yes. He nodded. "Very well." Pitch thought about it for a long, long time. Weighing the pros and cons, trying to figure out an answer but when he finally opened his mouth to speak, he was confronted with what he had suspected all along.

"You know Jamie," he told the boy finally. "Sometimes we all have to make sacrifices for the good of the people we love. That's just part of having a family. So, to answer your question, yes. I would."

Jamie nodded. "Thanks Pitch. That's all I needed to hear." And with that, the young boy laid down, turned over and made not a single sound.

Pitch stood there for a moment, frowning at the boy in the bed and wondering to what end had that question been asked? It didn't sound like something Jamie could ask for his own sake. Maybe Sophie's, but he doubted it.

He was still wondering about this when he landed on the Bennett family rooftop after climbing out the window. He expected to be the only spirit there but, for the second time that day was pleasantly surprised to find one of his fellow Guardians hovering not that far away from him. Namely, Jack Frost.

"Jack!" Pitch couldn't help the surprise that crept into his tone. "How did you get here?" The instant the words left his mouth and he saw the winter sprite smirk he knew he had just said something stupid.

As if in confirmation, Jack leaned on his staff and replied smarmily, "Well Pitch, when a mommy and daddy love each other very much-"

"I get the picture." Pitch interrupted, making a face in spite of himself. "I meant, _why _are you here?"

"Same reason you are I guess." He replied flippantly, shrugging. "I wanted to see Jamie but then I saw you were already there, so I decided to wait."

Pitch raised an eyebrow. "You could've come down and said hello," he told Jack reproachfully. "He's not just my first believer you know."

Jack shrugged again, seemingly not too bothered by it. "Ah, it's OK. I'll just swing by again later. No big deal. I've finished my roungd for the night anyway." He dropped his staff and then used his momentum to kick it back up to him, much like those hackie-sacks Pitch saw teenage boys playing around with.

"Well the boy's asleep now." Pitch told him, smirking. "So you'll have to get past Sandman to wake him."

Jack laughed, kicking the staff into the other hand. "I'll bet the kid was tired after that tickle-war."

Pitch's eyes grew wide as the sudden realization dawned on him. "_You _were the one who made me tickle Jamie!" Pitch accused the boy who simply shrugged modestly.

"Guilty." He replied. "I didn't like all the seriousness I was feeling from there. Changes needed to be made." Jack laced his fingers together and bent them backwards with several satisfactory pops. "Hehe. the old tickle-war. Eats seriousness like breakfast." He remarked proudly.

Pitch lowered his arm and rolled his eyes at the teen. _I knew there was something fishy going on there. _He thought to himself. _The only person I __**know **__I would incite a tickle-war with would be Tooth!_

"So," Jack said, twirling his staff over his wrist expertly now while he spoke. Hsi icy eyes were fixed on Pitch, looking him up and down carefully. "How're you feeling old man? Last I heard you weren't up to leaving your caves for a while."

Pitch threw up his hands in exasperation. This was almost worse than when everyone had thought him a recluse. "Why does everybody act like I'm going to pitch myself off the North Pole's highest tower?!" He demanded of the boy. "I swear, first Sera, then Tooth and now you! I am fine! She had to leave and I understand that! Why can't we just let well enough be alone?!"

Jack hovered there wordlessly for a few seconds, staring at him open mouthed as if he had just spoken blasphemy. Pitch glared at him and that seemed to snap him back into reality because he asked quietly, "You really feel that way?"

Pitch nodded vehemently. "YES! I'm sick and tired of everyone bringing it up and I think it's high time we leave the past in the past!"

Jack sighed. "Well, I guess it's better late than never." He said, speaking more to himself than to Pitch before reaching out and pulling the Boogeyman into a hug. "I'm glad for you Pitch. You made the right decision." He said kindly.

Pitch raised an eyebrow at the hug but made no move to break it. A hug from Jack Frost was like snow in August. It rarely happened but, when it did, it was something to be cherished.

When the boy let him go there was a wide smile on his face. He jumped onto his staff like a surf board and said, with a manacle glint in his eye, "Wanna see who can get home faster?"

The Boogeyman grinned. He never passed up an opportunity for a race. "You're on boy. Just don't start crying when I leave you in the dust." Already a pool of nightmare sand was forming beside him, ready to erupt into a steed at a moments' notice.

Jack let out a whoop of joy and, faster than a blink of an eye he shot out into the night sky, hollering, "Come on old man! Let's see what you got!"

Grinning, he snapped his fingers and seconds later, a gorgeous black sand Harley was sitting beside him, complete with helmet and obsidian paint job. Pitch's grin practically stretched from ear to ear as he mounted the bike, because sometimes a little difference is just what you need, and slid the helmet carefully over his spiky head. It fit perfectly.

Once he affixed the helmet in the right position, he glanced up at the sky and saw a familiar silhouette against the moon. He was waiting for him. Pitch gunned the motor in reply and he saw the silhouette shoot off towards the lake on the edge of Burgess. Pitch chuckled darkly. "Hehe. My turn." With a roar like dragonspeak the black bike shot off into the sky, tearing through the late night clouds after the winter spirit.

Almost immediately Pitch caught up to Jack and when the winter boy looked behind him to see how close his opponant was, his eyes widened. Pitch grinned and gave the boy a cheeky grin through the visor. Jack responded by waving and soaring off like a sparrow caught in thermal, breaking regular spirit speed records all the way. Pitch gunned the motor and, with a crack like thunder he sped off after the boy in the direction of Jack's lake.

The race- as all with Jack Frost, was a short-lived one. They were neck and neck for most of the way but- wither for the sake of his energy or just because he knew it would make the boy happy, Pitch chose to let Jack win. The winter sprite landed with a whoop in a snowdrift beside the lake, sending flurries of snow everywhwere while Pitch pulled up next to him on his nightmare sand Harley and pulled off his helmet.

"Good race?" He asked, smiling as Jack's grinning head popped up out of the drift. It was covered in snow that sat like a tiny mountain on his head.

"Yeah! That was epic!" He said enthusiastically, shaking his head to rid himself the cap of snow he had aquired. "We really need to do that again!"

Pitch nodded in agreement. Not that he had actually been doing anything but, hey, if he could humor the kid. "Count on it." He said, nodding his head. "Come by my caves sometime. I can't promise I'll let you win next time but it would sure be a pleasure to see you try."

Jack rose up out of the snowdrift, shook himself, then nodded his head. "Alright. Good night Pitch. Say hello to Tooth for me."

Pitch promised that he would and, with another nod, Jack sped off into the wintery night. Pitch followed suit and, after a brisk walk he was back in his caves.

It's a proven thing that memory muscles are connected to the behind. Just putting this out there. And, if it wasn't, it sure was for Pitch because only when he sank down onto his couch with a tired sigh did he recall that he hadn't actually told Jack about Meggie.

_Then...what had he been talking about when he said I made the right descision? _He wondered, frowning as he _Did it have something to do with how the Guardians acted towards me? Or did Kozmotis tell the others? _Strange.

Sadly, this was only the tip of the iceberg. And, for Pitch Black, things were about to get a whole lot stranger.

Reports started coming in from his Nightmares about a week after Pitch's discussion with Jamie. During those days he did what any normal Boogeyman would do; slept, ate, did his job with the occasional visit from the other members of his family- Guardian or otherwise. The second day after it was Sandy, using the excuse of _Oh I was in the neighborhood. _The next it was Sera herself who didn't give a reason. She just showed up out of the blue and stayed in his living room, talking to him for the better part of four hours before she suddenly took her leave.

Try as he might Pitch hadn't a clue as to why they would be checking up on him. It was downright perplexing! Part of him suggested it might just be their way of showing care and affection but, to his knowledge, they hadn't done this before. So he dismissed that thought and ended up spending quite a few sleepless nights wondering about many things. Among them the strange reports of the Nightmares.

According to at least seven of his very best mares- including Onyx, someone or some_thing_ had been sneaking around in his caves at night while he was out doing his job.

It had been small stuff at first. Just flashes of shadows that weren't caused by him, odd sounds and scents of fear that didn't belong to anything they recognized. Hardly anything to go on so Pitch had ignored the Nightmares' anxious plight. Then things started to get serious. One mare came up to him and reported the door to his library had been left open and several books were unaccounted for.

Pitch had been outraged, to say the least. "Is that not what I pay you lot for?!" He had seethed upon hearing the news. "Remember the last time we had an intruder in the lair?"

The other Nightmares backed away anxiously while Onyx stayed firmly rooted to the spot. Being the eldest of the nightmares she was fully used to the Nightmare King's temper tantrums and knew just to wait it out. _You don't pay us at all. _She replied flatly.

"That's _not the point!_" He told her icily. "Fix this, _now_."

And they had tried. But apparently whatever was getting into the caves and messing his stuff up was clever enough to evade them for, sure enough, Pitch himself found evidence of this nighttime prowler about ten days after his talk with Jamie. He had been headed there after a long night of work, only to find his living room in shambles with apple cores and pretzels strewn everywhere.

Pitch stood there with his hands on his hips, gaping at the mess in amazement. OK, this had gone too far!

His first thought- and who could blame him? Was, of course, Jack was playing the no-good freeloader teen again and he was just about to go give the boy a piece of his mind when he noticed something that stopped him in his tracks.

"A book?"

It was indeed a book. And a small one at that, with a plain green cloth cover and not even a dust jacket to its name, wedged in between the couch cushions. Pitch frowned and bent forward to pick the book up. Odd, this one didn't look familiar. Idly he flipped the cover open and was immediately lost in a labyrinth of diagrams, labels, stories and accounts, all having to do with...

"Shape-shifters?" Pitch murmured, scanning the front page for any sign of an author. None was found. The book didn't even have a title.

"There are many different species of shape-shifters in the world," he read aloud carefully. "And there may be many more. Shape-shifting is as natural to humans as it is to spirits. But of the human shape-shifters which covet æther's glow, the Changeling is the rarest and most clever. Born of human parents and given the gift at birth, Changelings naturally adapt to survive and take on those traits which others hold dear, making them the kindest and sometimes the most evil of the shape-shifters. Young ones can experience excruciating pain during their first few Changes but as they grow the power starts to become stronger and the pain lessens."

He paused, staring at the word Changeling steadily. _You know who that sounds like..._

Oh yes, he knew exactly who that sounded like. "Meggie," he breathed, looking from the book to the area around him. "She's been here!" It could be no one else. "But why?" He wondered aloud. _I mean a few days ago she didn't want anything to do with me. Now she's decided to stalk me in my own home?_

This was getting odder and odder by the minute.

Pitch read through the book some more before he closed it an laid it on the arm of the couch. This was an interesting development, to say the least. So Meggie was back then. Very interesting. _I wonder if she will try to talk to me again, _he mused thoughtfully. Though he very much doubted it. She hadn't been in a very talkative mood when she had left. And that was assuming it actually _was _her and not something else.

"That's right." He told himself. "I can't assume it's really her until I see proof."

So he had set his trap, caught the little shapeshifter and somehow, through the miracle of television they had reached an agreement which had led to the present time.

Pitch was standing in the open doorway of Meggie's room, watching in amusement as she moved items around. He had given her her old room back of course, with the promise of a few new additional pieces of furniture in the future, should she wish it.

"The place is a little Spartan, isn't it?" She asked finally, turning away from the bed to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

He shrugged. "No one has ever stayed here before." He replied. "I never had cause to use it before now."

She nodded and turned back to fiddling with the bed. "It's gonna be reeeeally weird sleeping on this thing again," she muttered, picking up the edge of the comforter and eying it carefully. "Like, really."

Pitch raised an eyebrow. "You are used to something more luxurious?" He asked, slightly amused. Had she been sleeping in Buckingham Palace since her rebirth?

But she shook her head in the negative. "No, nothing like this. I've been sleeping on a cot for the last few weeks."

Now this was interesting. "A cot? So you did have another place to stay. Interesting."

Meggie nodded. "Yeah, and I need to get back there for a little while." She dropped the blanket and headed for the door. Pitch backed up and allowed her room as she entered the corridor. "I'll be back in the morning." she told him as she passed him by.

He shrugged and replied, "Alright. I will tell the Nightmares to be on the lookout for you and for them not to attack you upon your return."

She rolled her eyes in that teenager fashion and replied sarcastically, "Thanks man." Before taking off down the corridor, that strange backpack bouncing on her back as she brusquely walked. He watched her, following the color of her hair glinting off the bioluminescence in the walls until soon she was out of sight. He didn't even bothered to try and follow her. Besides, he had promised her privacy and privacy was what she would have.

Besides, she came back only a few hours later but when she did, she looked very tired and, after stopping by his room to let him know she was here, she retired to her own room to sleep.

It was quite curious, he recollected as he too fell into bed, pulling the covers over his body and burying his face into the pillow. How she seemed to know even his personal chambers like the back of her hand. Almost as if...

"Almost as if she was _meant _to be here," he murmured to himself as the gentle arms of oblivion carried him away from the conscious world. And, who knew, maybe she was.

XXXXXXXXXX

_I don't know how I'm going to do this, _I thought, flying like a ghost through the early dawning sky_. I truly don't. It's not like I can just waltz into Cupcake's room and say hey, I'm just back for a few minutes to grab my stuff before I head back to these creepy caves where I have a place to live now. Grah. I'm screwed. _

It was quite possible. However, even when I was down to a fault and too tired to go on, I always tried to look on the bright side of life- not that there was one very often, and when I finally reached Cupcake's house I had decided to just come clean. With everything. I didn't like lying to Cupcake any more than I had to and it was time for the lies to stop.

Once Cupcake learned of my lies, however, she would undoubtedly be very upset and most likely wouldn't let me stay. Which was alright. Now I had a place where I could hide out and, if Cupcake wanted to ever see my face again she would know where to find me.

Alighting on the windowsill silently like a raven, gripping the frame by my fingernails with one hand while I slid the glass up I practically fell inside, landing with a gentle thud. The noise wasn't enough to wake Cupcake up, even though it was nearing dawn and she needed to be woken anyway. I crossed the room to stand beside the little girl's bed, staring down at her. She looked so peaceful and I was very tempted to let her sleep until a decent hour, but I had promised Pitch and I would keep that promise.

"Cupcake," I whispered gently, shaking her shoulder. "Cupcake, wake up sweetie."

She let out a small mumbling groan but nothing more.

Silently berating myself, I shook her harder. "Margaret! Margaret I need to talk to you!"

She moaned again, then jerked up into a sitting position. "_Nnnn, nnnn_\- I'm up mommy!" Her eyes cranked open and she took one look around before falling back against her bed and going back to sleep.

I sighed. "_Margareeeeet! _Wake up kiddo _please? _I really need to talk to you!" I kept shaking her and shaking her until she finally woke up and pushed me off of her.

"Alright alright, I'm awake!" She sat up, rubbing her eyes tiredly. I gave her a few minutes to become aware of what was going on and, once she had finished rubbing her eyes she glanced around, puzzled. "It's still nighttime."

I nodded. "Yes and I'm sorry. But I had to speak with you. It's urgent." I tried to make myself seem as serious as possible, hoping that she would listen to me and, thankfully, she did. She pulled the comforters back and sat cross-legged on her bed, watching me intently with her hands folded on her lap.

"So," she asked, yawning. "What's wrong Meggie? Did you have another nightmare?" I went to answer her, but before I could get the words out of my throat she added, "Wait, no never mind. You were out tonight. How did it go? Did you run into any trouble?"

I shook my head and automatically replied, "No, no trouble." I considered my words. "Well yes, kind of. Not exactly trouble but something interesting happened to me tonight and I need to talk to you about it." Oh damn, I was rambling again. I _hated _to ramble but always ended up doing it anyway when I got upset or nervous. And boy was I nervous about this!

She raised an eyebrow. "_Not _trouble?" She repeated, sounding puzzled.

I nodded. "Yeah. And..." A tired sigh escaped my lips. "I owe you an apology for something."

Now she was really interested. "An apology? What for Meg? Here, I think you should sit down and tell me all about it." She patted the bed and I pulled myself up onto the bed, crossing my legs until we mirrored each other and, once I was comfortable she nodded at me to explain.

I took a deep breath. Here is goes. "Margaret, I haven't been exactly forthright about where I've been going during the night. I haven't _just _been flying around Burgess, helping kids I've... I've been going other places too. Crazy, amazing places with amazing people and...well... I've discovered I really like some of these places."

Cupcake frowned. "Just what are you saying Meggie?"

I inwardly groaned. This was like breaking up with a boyfriend! Not that I knew what that was like but, meh. "Well what I'm trying to say is..." I sighed. "I want to leave here for a while and stay there. Of course I will come back to visit as often as I can," I added quickly, raising my hands when her eyebrows shot up her face. "And I don't have to move out right away I just wanted to tell you now so that you didn't worry and-"

"Meggie," Cupcake interrupted smoothly, putting a hand on my shoulder and I fell silent. She smiled at me, making me once again feel like I was the child and she the elder woman. "Meggie, it's alright. I understand perfectly."

"Y-you do?" I winced but I couldn't help the stammer that escaped my lips.

She nodded patiently. "_Of course. _I mean I knew you wouldn't be able to live in my closet for the rest of your life but..." I felt my heart wrench as she sighed dejectedly. "I didn't think it would be so soon."

I instantly back-tracked. "Well Cupcake I don't have to leave immediately. I can stay for the night-"

"Ooooh no Meggie." The pre-teen interrupted firmly, raising a hand to stop me when I tried to interrupt. "No, don't interrupt. I understand the need to spread your wings and move out of here. It can't be easy sleeping on a rough old cot, sneaking food from the fridge when their backs are turned, just sitting home all day and I wouldn't want you to subject yourself to anything on my account, physical discomfort or otherwise. Everyone has to go out and seek the world at sometime or another and I'm happy for you!"

"But Cupcake-"

"No Meggie, you _have _to come out of the closet!" She grabbed my hands and looked pleadingly into my eyes. "Please sweetheart," she pleaded. "It's for your own good you _need _to come out of the closet!"

I sighed. "Well, if that's what you think is best..."

She nodded firmly, patting my hand gently. "I _truly _do. Trust me it'll be _wonderful _for you. You'll get to travel, see the world, help little kids with their writing and stuff and maybe even find your calling as a spirit! And _wherever _your new home is, no matter how far away or how strange I'm sure you'll be happy."

I nodded slowly, trying to keep the smile from creeping across my face. Well...this was interesting. Not only was Cupcake alright with me leaving, she was endorsing it by giving me her blessing! And she didn't even know where I was moving to! "Thanks kiddo." I reached forward and wrapped my arms around her. "I appreciate it a lot."

She nodded. "Hey, no problem! I would do anything for you, you know that! I just want you to be happy and, if you have to leave my house to do that well...I guess I'll just have to deal with it." She patted me on the back and I pulled away, beaming. "You promise you'll some by and see me, sometime in your worldly travels?"

"Every weekend." I promised her. "Like clockwork." I knew she would hold me to that, and I had no problem with that. I would keep my promise, now matter how busy I got learning about my new powers.

We talked for a little while before, making idle chit-chat before I glanced out the window behind us and noticed that it was getting light out. "Hey kiddo, sorry to cut this short but I need to be getting along. And you," I pointed at her with a smile. "You need to go back to bed. It's late and you need your sleep for school tomorrow."

She nodded and allowed me to tuck her in before I turned to my old 'room' and started packing up the few items I owned. A few sets of clothes, a book, a really pretty necklace that Cupcake had lent me and I really didn't want to give back, and a bookmark in the shape of a tiny Persian rug. And, after packing that all away, giving Cupcake one more hug and promising that I would come back to tease her parents when I got bored, I turned my back on her and climbed out the window.

"Bye kiddo," I called, turning around for one last look at the little girl who changed my life so much and for the better. "See you soon."

She waved to me and I waved back. I could tell she wasn't long for this world by the sluggish way she waved her arms and, after her arm sank back down to her side I opened the window and left with a big old smile on my lips. I was kind of annoyed that I hadn't actually told Cupcake the truth but I guess it was all for the best. I was close enough to visit her whenever I wanted to after all. And who knew. Maybe I would actually be able to go out and see the world like she wanted me to.

"But, for now," I told myself as I headed back to the caves. "It's time to get back to that network of caves and crash. Good gods am I tired!"

And I was. So damn tired that I could practically feel my feet dragging through the air as I flew. The magic needed no nagging as I came to rest, hovering just a few feet above the hole in the ground before I dropped down and landed with a jarring thud that certainly cleared my sinuses. I shook my head a couple times before heading into the cavern. And, after a quick stop-off to visit the Boogeyman and tell him I was alright, only because he probably would've sent those damn horses after me otherwise, I found my old room and fell on my bed like a sack of potatoes and before I knew it I was out like a light. I didn't even bother to change into my Pj's.

As soon as my eyelids fluttered shut, darkness swooped in upon me and on the wave of shadows rode nightmares that I haven't had to deal with since my first night with Cupcake. I tried to ignore them but while my body was utterly exhausted my mind was completely awake, resulting in these horrendous visions.

It started out with just the usual guff. Myself, looking into a mirror, while a stranger stared back at me. I stood in the center of a wall-less, boundless room, staring straight into the unending depts of the reflective glass. The mirror was a tall, rectangular sheet of glass, shrouded in thick, flowing rounds of gold which twisted and cajoled around a silver frame. The ends and corners tapered off to vague slivers of metal, flowering out at the tips. It was the most beautiful mirror I have ever seen.

And yet, when I looked into it I saw only pain. And sadness.

"Why do I keep seeing you?!" I asked the reflection angrily.

The reflection smiled warmly. It was that of a little girl, no older than ten with curly blonde hair in a dirty pink shirt which was ripped and clearly poorly-kept. Her eyes were the greenest green I could imagine. Like freshly cut grass, jungle foliage and beans right off the stalk. "You're getting there." She told me and I winced. Her voice was mine. "It's good that you're here."

"Yes but why are _you _here?" I demanded, raising my hand up to the mirror's face. "Who are you? _What _are you?"

But the reflection just chuckled, turning around and walked away from me.

"Oi!" _Turn your back on me you little-! _"Hey, I'm talking to you!"

The girl stopped and languidly revolved on the spot until she faced me once again. She had that eerie smile resting on her lips again and as she spoke, her voice carried across the depths of my consciousness. "Mirrors are pathways." She told me slowly, staring straight into my eyes. "Hope that you don't get lost."

And then I woke up. My body was cold and the first thing I did after sitting up and taking a few deep breaths was automatically go to pull the blanket over my shivering legs but then I decided against it. It didn't matter that I was wearing a t-shirt and jeans; the cold would eat through me like a virus and the only way to cure myself was to put on something warm. Which I did, donning the pj's Pitch had given to me and learning that they fit perfectly.

I took my glasses off and laid them on the table beside me, then snuggled down under the blankets. My head hit the pillow and I closed my eyes, expecting to drift off into the gentle arms of oblivion but this time, I didn't.

A tired sigh escaped my lips as I turned over onto my back and murmured to the ceiling, "It's gonna be a loooong night." 


	15. Historical Storicals Seldome Said

**Gooooood mornin' Vietnam! Holy hell I really didn't want it to take this long so, to make up for how bloody long I've been away, I decided to update an extra long chapter with more plot-twists than there are layers in a dozen-layer dip! **

**...well...a dozen. Possibly more. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Goodness knows it took far too long to write. And don't worry, the next chapter to Somebody That We Used To Know is nearly done! Just a few more hours and that should be ready. **

**Alright then, have fun! Oh, and for those of you who liked the mysterious figure and ****thought he ****might be the half-dragon Bard, I can tell you good guess...but no. He won't be appearing in this story for a while. But out mysterious figure is back, and he's more mysterious than ever!**

**I'd love to hear some thoughts on who you guys think he might be.**

* * *

Of all the things I miss about staying at Cupcake's house, the food, the company, the laughs, none of that compares to the joyous relief and comfort of central heating.

I'm not kidding in the least.

On the morning following my agreement with the Boogeyman to live in his caves, I was woken up at five o'clock in the morning by the most intense cold I had ever felt in my life! I jerked upright, yanking my toes which had been exposed to the elements during the night back under my comforter with a yelp but it did no good. My toes were utterly petrified from the cold.

"Oh jeez holy crapola BRRRR!" I'm pretty sure my complaining could've been heard from the surface but I didn't care. I was so bloody cold that I couldn't move from my bed for fear of letting what precious little heat I had managed to produce out. I huddled under my comforter, shivering as I bitched and moaned about my predicament. "I should've stayed at Cupcake's dammit all to hell I should've stayed at Cupcake's! How does he stand it down here in the wee hours of the morning?!" I bucked underneath the blankets as a shiver racked my body, causing me to curl in on myself.

_He's probably got bloody comforters thicker than __**me **__to curl up underneath! _I grumbled, too cold to even move my lips. _Dirty warm buggering Boogeyman!_

I cursed him to the very depths of hell for quite a long time before I finally decided to quit belly-aching and get up to face the day. I knew it couldn't be any worse than what I had already experienced.

And, as it turned out, it wasn't.

After getting dressed, which was even more difficult when I tried to keep the blankets up around me as I changed. Several trips and one fall flat on my face later, I finally managed to get all my clothes on properly and then I proceeded to pull on my only pair of socks and black sneakers. There was no way I was running around in bare feet with these temperatures.

Only when I had finished tying my cloak around my shoulders- a nice addition to my wardrobe I had acquired from a costume shop down the street from Cupcakes's house -did I finally shrug the blankets from around my shoulders and set them on the bed, pick up my backpack- which I had emptied of damn-near everything in it the previous night, and headed for the kitchen. I was _not _going to stay in that room any longer than I had to.

Thankfully for his sake, Pitch wasn't around. So I helped myself to a few small dainties- an apple, a banana, and a single fig newton bar I found in a small plastic tub in the pantry before heading out into the big bad world.

Sufficed to say, Cupcake's was the first place I headed to. The sun was shining and I could feel the warmth almost immediately touching my skin. I sighed happily. Now this was much better.

The flight there wasn't that bad honestly. Thankfully, it was a short one. I got there barely half an hour after I had left and I stayed there for a long time, chatting with Cupcake and telling her the wonderful tales of my 'adventures'. My first night had apparently been spent in the Eiffel tower instead of in a freezing underground ice chest. She seemed to be pretty happy with the idea and accepted it readily. I felt hella guilty about fibbing to her but there was nothing I could do about it.

We only got an hour to speak however, as Cupcake had to go to an after school function. Band recital. I asked her if she wanted me to come and watch but she said that wasn't necessary. So I left. I didn't want to go back to the caves, Pitch would no doubt be there with a load of questions which I wasn't about to answer, and the stale funk of underground air was starting to get to me. So I decided to try and put some truth in my lie to cupcake and go exploring.

I had no clue just how far I was going to go, but I knew I didn't want to stay in Burgess all my life. So I packed a quick bag of stolen snacks (From the pantry of the esteemed Mr. and Mrs. Cupcake obviously) and headed off into the sky, searching for somewhere new.

I found it. And it wasn't all that far away from Burgess actually!

After flying for about twenty minutes in a northish direction, I found a massive city full of people and gigantic buildings, all glass and shiny metal, reflecting the brazen light of the rapidly falling sun in gorgeous arcs that made me think I was in another land completely!

The air was tinged with the smoke of cigars and cigarettes, but I ignored it. I was completely enthralled by the majesty of this place; a labyrinth of glimmering spires, tampered by a vast web of dark streets below. Tiny, ant-like people milling around on the ground in droves with a rare straggler moseying alone on their own. Animals roaming the rooftops and back-alleys, searching for their next meal and a friendly pat on the head. That part was fairly sad, but I chose to over-look it and focus on the fun I could have until darkness fell.

As it turned out, the city- which I learned from listening in on a few conversations was called New York, was pretty entertaining. Of course, no one ever saw me and that kind of stunk, but I didn't let that get me down. I explored every burrow of that city I could- Queens turned out to be my favorite because of the people. They were so diverse! There were poets, bikers, societal spiffs, business tycoons, laymen, all bunched together in a tiny little section of land not two blocks away from the water. It was astounding, and alarming. And somewhat beautiful.

"To think that all this majesty could exist on just a few hundred miles," I murmured as I soared over Central Park, my toes just barely skimming the tops of trees. "And I hadn't a clue it was even here until now."

While my scattered memories had only vague references to cities across the US- and none specific enough to tell me where I had grown up, Cupcake had allowed me to tag along to history class with her on a few occasions and had spent hours afterwards teaching me about the US and how to tell where I was in pretty much every state.

At the time, I had dismissed most of it as boring and hadn't bothered paying much attention. My mindset was this: a little bit of information was alright. But what's the point of filling your head with a bunch of useless facts and directions when you can just see the place for yourself and learn that way?

Every hour or so I would stop flying and alight on the rooftop of an apartment building to rest. The views I recieved were sensational and I knew that I was going to cherish these memories for a long, long time and hopefully share them with others, should the only other person I spoke to, other than Cupcake, be interested.

"He probably won't be," I told myself dismissively as I chomped on a hot dog I had stolen from a local diner. Extra pickles, no mustard. Just the way I liked it. "But it'll be fun to pester him with questions later."

In spite of what Pitch had told me about spirits not needing food, I still felt satisfaction filling me as I swallowed the last bite of hot dog bun and prepared to take off again. Food might not be a necessity, but it certainly made me feel good.

It made me feel so good in fact that as soon as I tried to jump off the building to take off, I found myself weighed down a lot more than I normally was and just barely avoided crashing into a lonesome tree sticking out of the pavement. After that, I decided that walking might be the better option.

I walked around for another few hours or so, wandering aimlessly. Watching the populace live their lives. They weren't so different from the people in Burgess, if I had to be honest. Maybe a little bit more busy and some of them were definitely more snooty than the wonderful day warranted, but I guess that's what you get when you love in a crowded city like New York.

I hadn't even scratched the surface.

Literally, as it turns out. As beautiful as the above ground part of New York was, the underside was even more entrancing. I'm talking, of course, about the subways.

I discovered them quite by accident. I was following a small group of people who had just left a huge building, presumably leaving work, purely out of curiosity. I had of course noticed people disappearing into tunnels that led down underground from the moment I first touched down on the dirty pavement, but my thoughts had been on more interesting things and as such I hadn't paid any attention to it. Until now, that is.

I followed the group of people, most of them in suits, all clutching briefcases, down through a dimly lit tunnel with steps that looked as grimy as the underside of any boot in Brooklyn. They went all the way down the stairs into a huge underground room with bright lights hanging from the ceiling and thousands of people milling around in different directions. They all headed in the same direction into a little tube that was already packed with people and as they squeezed through the doors I got the feeling being in there was a lot like being squished in a sardien tin. So I elected to stay out of there.

I watched the tube sliding away down the tracks, slowly at first, then at a speed that utterly astounded me as I watched it zip away into the darkness.

"Whoa," I breathed. "That's..." There were no words to describe it and at that moment, I knew I had to ride one.

So I did.

The next one pulled up in a matter of minutes and instead of flying inside, I chose to lie down on the top of the tube- which I learned from listening to the conductor was called a subway and that momentarily confused me, as I had already had a subway sandwich form the local sandwich shop in Burgess a few weeks previously, but I was too excited to ruminate about that for long.

By the time the subway car finally started moving, I was practically jiggling with excitement. I made sure to keep my head down as far as I could while still being able to see in front of me, knowing that this was going to be the coolest ride in the universe!

I was wrong. It wasn't the coolest ride in the universe. But it was close!

The rush of air that blasted me in the face as the subway car finally started moving in earnest was amazing. Then, when we really got up to speed, oho boy. If any one could've seen me screaming and squealing with delight I know they would've thrown me in the loony bin.

When the ride ended, I immediately took another one and then another one. The experience was one that I'll never forget. sure I got a few bumps and bruises, but it was worth it and before I knew it, as the train pulled into its station and I glanced at the electric clock on the wall I realized it was getting late.

My hair had already been blown to hell by the first one, but by the time I finally tottered off the last one I felt like my hair could've been entered in a sculpture contest. "It's going to take a year to comb all this out!" I grumbled, taking flight in the direction of home. I soared above the massive structures, getting one last look at the city before I headed home to my ice-cold room and temperamental room mate who was surely goign to pepper me with questions on where I had been. That didn't mean I was going to answer him though.

I ended up getting home at around ten O'clock at night. I dropped through the hole in the ground, thinking, _isn't it strange how I've barely lived here a few hours this time and already I'm thinking of this place as home, _as I made my way through the network of tunnels. Unfortunately, when I reached it my room ended up being just as cold as it had that morning. But I didn't care. I was too tired from my expedition and as soon as I opened the door I immediately crashed. Out cold, until about four in the morning.

When I woke up freezing.

"Ugh," I groaned, rolling over and tucking my hands beneath my arm pits. According to my watch, I had been awake for about an hour, just lying there trying to keep warm. "This can _not _continue."

I resolved to find a way to fix this ice cube of a room, _without _begging Pitch for any help. Yes, he had promised me a safe place to live and yes, it should fall to him as 'landlord' to fix any issues with the residence, but in spite of all that I still didn't want to be any more in his debt than I already was. I was going to need to go shopping.

"Right after I thaw."

I 'thawed' soon enough and, on my next exploration run I chose to stick closer to home. Specifically, the local bed bath and beyond. I had never been inside one before and by the gods, I will never again! I mean the building itself wasn't that bad, but as soon as I got near the bath section I almost fainted from the smell.

"Holy hades!" I coughed, trying to protect my nose from the onslaught of fru-fru soaps and eu de la shampoos. "Blah! I'm outta here!" Fleeeee!

I ducked out of the pot-pourrie pissbin and made my way to the bed section where I found a multitude of blankets which would do nicely. Half a dozen, at least. Thick, wonderful blankets, feather-down blankets and best of all, _electrical _blankets. After tucking them in a black trashbag, I made my way back home and crashed, using the nest of blankets like a...well...nest. But even that didn't work! Once again the next morning I was woken up to cutting sound of my own chattering teeth. The temp must've been ten below and the blankets didn't do a damn thing!

"Uuuuugh! If I stay here any longer I'm going to die of frostbite!" I whined, huddling deeper into the blankets. "I cannot believe he's letting me freeze to death, after promising to keep me safe. The black-hearted bugger."

I was determined to find somewhere warmer to hole up until this icy wave of doom blew over and, after allowing myself a few minutes to bitch and whine to get the blood flowing, I finally got up, wrapped an electric blanket around my shoulders and headed off into the caverns. Every room was the same. Ice cube after ice cube. It was ridiculous. That a place like this would be so cold- even if it was early October. Sure it was underground still. I could not understand how he stood it!

"That aversion to temperature must really be something," I growled, marching down the hallway with the blanket tightly wrapped around my shoulders, the loose corners flapping in the icy wind which flowed up from the deeper caverns like a cape. "Gods above I would love to have that."

Wouldn't I just.

Thankfully, there was one place where I found the temp was slightly above freezing, and I eventually found my way there.

"The library," I breathed, staring through the open door in awe. The temperature change was so different that I could literally take one step and instantly feel warmer, which is what I did. There was a roaring fire crackling in the brick fireplace, casting a cheery warm light over the place while shadows danced on the edges of the bookshelves. With a cry of jubilation, I bolted across the room and sank do my knees before the fire, holding out my hands as if placating to a benevolent diety. "Oh thank Hades!" I murmured, feeling the gentle tickle of warmth already beginning to flow through my body. Yep. I had found my temporary lodgings, be damn what Pitch said.

I don't know how long I knelt there, breathing in the sweet sweet smoke. There was something else burning amidst the wood and embers but I couldn't pinpoint what. I just knew it smelled good. I stood up, surveying my new lodgings. Bookshelves as far as the eye could see, a nice warm fireplace, what else did I need?

"Yup. Claimed."

I started moving my stuff in almost immediately after that. In fact I spent the whole day running back and forth, carrying my backpack and blankets. At first, I thought about sleeping on the floor. It was carpeted, and I could be closer to the fire. Then I thought better of it. The carpet looked like it hadn't been vacuumed in years, and since there was a couch sitting in the stacks not twenty feet away from the fireplace I decided to do the smart thing and move it. And, with the blankets and fire, by the time I was ready to go to sleep that night I was so warm that I passed out almost immediately and had the best sleep I had had in weeks.

And I dreamed.

They weren't wholly pleasant dreams, but at least they were dreams. After three weeks of practically sleepless nights and fitful slumbers, dreams were a welcome reprieve, no matter how much I hated them or how bad they got. They started out as mindless and as rambling as my thoughts after a long day of flying. Dis-connected images- brown hair, glasses on foggy faces, glossy movie posters and black voids that vaguely reminded me of computer screens. There were smells too, and sounds. Fried chicken, something sweet and fruity. Laughter. Crying. So much crying.

And that's when things started to turn dark.

The crying cut like a knife through the cheerful clamour of sights and sounds. There were a dozen voices- some easier to make out than others. I couldn't place a name to any of them but I could tell that they knew me very well. Why else would they be crying? And it didn't stop there.

Instead of just being haunted by these disturbing sounds and images my dreams decided to bring me into them and I found myself running, fleeing through the darkness, screaming in terror while the sounds accosted and battered me in the shape of bats. Their faces were hideous, misshapen blobs of flesh and sharp teeth. No eyes.

I woke up in a cold sweat. My blankets had been kicked off during the night and the fire was nearly dead. Only embers were left. I got up and grabbed a few logs from the pile in a scuttle next to the fire, shivering as I did so. Even though my shivering had nothing to do with the cold, and when it was back to a warm blaze, I sat there on the carpeted floor for a while, watching the flames. I was staring so deeply into the heart of the fire that I could almost see my own face reflected back at me.

It was almost surreal. Those voices, the sounds, the smells. All together it made for one hell of a nightmare but when I woke up... that was when it got really dangerous. That as when I started to truly think about those voices and desperately trying to recall those faces from my lack of memory. I could strain for hours at a time, turning my brain to mush as I strove to remember if I knew those faces! Wrestling with it day in and day out until my tired, aching body won out and I drifted off to sleep once again, only to be plagued by the terrors all over again.

It was all I could do to stay awake the next day. And even then, after only a few hours of exploring New York which was getting a bit dull- this was before I discovered the wonderful place known as the Bronx -I had to come home. I wanted so badly to fall onto the couch and lie there like a back of potatoes, immobile, unthinking for the rest of my life but I knew I couldn't. Sleep meant pain. And I had had enough of that for a while.

"What I need," I told myself as I sat up, rubbing the tiredness from my eyes. "Is something constructive to do. Something to keep me awake."

Of course the first thing that jumped into my head was a good book but, after browsing through the Boogeyman's selection and finally choosing one that suited me, taking it back to my couch and skimming through the first few pages I discovered that reading only made the urge to pass out stronger. After three passages I put the book down. My eyes were swimming.

"Ugh," I couldn't help the moan that escaped my lips as I pressed my hand over my eyes. "Yeah, that's not helping."

New plan.

Looking around, the only thing I found that even remotely caught my interest was the amount of excess blankets and pillows lying around the couch. Suddenly, through all the darkness and exhaustion, a child-like spark flared up in me. I knew exactly what I wanted to do before I even leaped into action. It practically called to me, the epitome of childish fun and joy. The thing that all little kids desire.

A blanket fort.

It started as just a way to keep myself entertained but ended up being some kind of obsession. I was determined to make the biggest, bestest, most badass blanket/pillow fort in history! And boy did I succeed. Every night before I went to sleep I spent several hours messing around with blankets and seeing which could be set up to provide maximum warmth and cool looks while also not impeding on the functionality of the bookshelves.

By the end of the third night, I had created a palace of sorts. The floor was almost entirely covered with plush, comfy pillows which I could roll around in like a happy puppy any time that I wanted. And the blankets, oh it was like living in an Arabic Bedouin! And I loved every minute of it. My life was a dream.

By day, I explored the city of New York, most of its burrows and the surrounding countryside for most of the day, then came home. I didn't really have much contact with Pitch- he seemed to be satisfied with leaving me to my own devices, but I saw the Nightmares on almost a regular basis. Onyx made a point of greeting me every morning. She didn't seem bothered by where I was sleeping. In fact, the Nightmare seemed pleased about it! But when I asked her why she didn't really care that I was turning her master's library into my own personal playground, she merely laughed and went back to her pen.

Time passed so quickly that, before I knew it, a whole week had gone by. An entire week of exploring New York and its outlying burrows, reading the books in the library, eating the scant food I could scrounge from Pitch's pantry, filling in my diary and visiting Cupcake almost every chance I got. She loved hearing my stories so much. And it made me just as happy to see the smile on her face when I told her about the smoky, pigeon dropping-filled streets, the endless street food vendors and flood of people rushing back and forth like ants across a celery stick.

She was so happy to hear my stories at the end of the day that, eventually, I started wanting to make them not be lies. I wanted to actually see the places I told her about, not just read about them in books. In fact I yearned for it. The drive to go out and seek the world, a bit farther than my own backyard.

If I had known just how far I was going to go, I wouldn't have yearned for it so much.

But for now, all I could think about was the rolling green hills of England and the lush, lavender-covered fields of Italy. The deep forests of South America, the vast deserts crawling with scorpions and even harsh, snow-covered mountains. It was a wonderful dream, one that I hoped soon to complete. And it would've been a nice dream too, if it wasn't completely suicidal.

But that's a story for another time.

On the weekend following the completion of my little tent-construction, I woke up a little later than usual. The fire was dead anf, for the first time in a week I woke up freezing.

"Grah! Jehoshaphat! I thought this damn cold-snap was over and done with!" I grumbled, shivering as I cuddled under the blankets. The fire had clearly been out for a while and me, being the ditz that I was, had clean forgot to charge my electric blanket the night before. So, rather than getting up and shivering the few feet it would take to get to the wood scuttle and re-light the fire with the cache of stolen commemorative matchbooks I had obtained from the Ritz hotel, I decided that just lying there shivering would work best.

And it did. Until the horse stopped by.

The silence and cold had almost paralyzed me to sleep when I heard a familiar clip-clopping noise and then a creak as the door was nudged open. My head was still hidden beneath the covers and so I didn't see the horse approach until she was standing over me, snorting at me and making my blankets quiver.

_Are you there little one?_

I rolled my eyes and replied scathingly through chattering teeth, "N-no I'm in k-k-Kalamazoo O-Onyx."

_Just checking. _She replied with an amused neigh. _But why so cold? I thought there was a fireplace in here._

You know that look you give people when they something so _stupidly _obvious that it just makes you want to sock them right in the common sense? Yeah, that was the look on my face. My eyes rolled so far back in my head that I swear I saw my own brain. "_There is_, you ecravagular equine." I told her. "However, the fire has _clearly _gone out and as such had left me utterly frozen through and through."

_All except your lips, _she noted.

"Yeah yeah, laugh it up Misty of snot-itigue. I hope your apples are all rotten!" I took a few seconds to collect myself, reminding mmyself that it wasn't her fault I was freezing my hiney off in here. "Now, what do you want? I doubt you've come all the way down here just to tease your favorite Meggie-scicle."

_Indeed I have not. But before I tell you why I've come down here, would you please take that ridiculous blanket off your head so that I can see you when I talk to you. You look like a two-bit ghost._

The eye-rolling was back again. "No." I told her firmly. "It is far too cold. Just tell me now. Whatever it is, it can't be that important."

_Very well. My master requests that you up come to the kitchen and eat brunch with him. There's something very important he needs to show you._

That did it. I poked my head up over the edge of the blankets, just enough to show her my murderous eyes. "I...am freezing to death here... you dozy horse." I hissed at her, trying to avoid leaking precious warmth. "I am not... going to go eat breakfast when I can't even _move!_"

Onyx tossed her head in amusement. _Brunch, _she corrected patiently. _It's too late for breakfast. And getting up and moving around will help ease the cold from your bones._

That made me pause for a moment. "Wait, why is it too late for breakfast?" It was never too late for breakfast!

_Because it's eleven in the morning. Now come on, let's get you up and att'um! _With that, she reached forward and took hold of my blanket with her teeth, yanking at it and I only just managed to hang on to it by the tips of my fingers.

"OI! What do you think you're doing?!" I yelled, clenching my legs tightly around the blankets and pulling back against her with all my might. It didn't help that I was lying on a couch. "I'm freezing stop it!"

She neighed in laughter, tugging slightly less sharply on the blanket as if in fear she would break it. _Meggie, come on now don't be a colt. The rest of the caves are much more warm than this. Trust me, we'll get you back to working order again._

"NO!" I shouted, pulling at the blankets with one more tremendous yank which tore it from Onyx's teeth and, without hesitation I ducked back under the blankets, shivering horribly. "Now bugger off! I'm not coming out until I thaw!"

Onyx let out an exasperated huff and I heard more clip-clopping and a gentle thud as she kicked the door shut behind her, only to return not too long after. I was damn-near asleep when the sound of hooves reached me. I punched the pillow in reflex, wishing that she would just piss off!

"Onyx I'm warning you!" I grumbled, not even bothering to stick my head out from under the covers. "I do not want to be bugged! I'm cold, tired and just want to get warm enough to-"

All of a sudden I felt the most amazing sensation settle over me. It was like a layer of fluffy warm marshmallows had descended upon me and I snuggled into it happily, moaning in rapture. _Ooooh, this is nice!_

"Are you going to get up now?"

My eyes popped open. "Boogeyman?!" I jackknifed up into a sitting position and found Pitch standing with an amused look on his face, leaning on Onyx's back with his arm hooked around her neck as he watched me. Onyx was neighing with laughter at the sight of me, violet hair sticking up like matter spikes while my eyes darted around the room, looking for him before my eyes finally alighted on him.

He chuckled. "Well, I must say that got you up quickly enough."

I clutched the warmth, which had turned out to be a blanket, around my shoulders as I glared at him. Here was the chance I had been waiting for. The chance to chew this two-bit Boogeyman into little tiny pieces. The chance to rip him a new one! And boy was I gonna enjoy it. "I have been staying down here..." I told him slowly, my tone cool as could be but we both could hear the undertone of murderous intent in it. "For almost two weeks now because the ice-chest you call a room which you gave me was impossible to stay in. I had to go out and steal blankets from a department store just to keep warm!"

"You could've just asked." He replied with an innocent shrug. Oh gods, that smirk.

I would've hit him but I was too cold. "I had to build a fire every night!" I chattered, continuing to rage and vent. In spite of the warmth the blanket provided, the cold still wormed its way through my body. "_Every single night_, Pitch!"

"So what? It builds good character."

That was it! I turned over and flopped back down on my couch unceremoniously. "Good night."

But he wasn't perturbed. I felt a hand on my back, shaking me. "Hey, come on now. I know I've kind of been standoffish lately-"

"Standoffish?!" I repeated incredulously, rolling over again to stare at him. Was he kidding? "_Standoffish?!_ I've been gallivanting around New York for the last two weeks, with you none the wiser! I haven't even seen you in all that time and in that time you haven't even had the courtesy to come down here and ask me how I'm doing!"

Pitch sighed. "I've been...busy." He said, rather vaguely I thought. "I knew you could take care of yourself and didn't want to smother you."

"...OK fair enough. But still. I've been living on old hot-dogs and pantry snacks! I feel like my stomach is about to eat itself!"

Pitch sighed. "Meggie, we've been over this. Spirits don't need food to survive." Before I could open my big fat mouth he raised a hand. "However, that's part of the reason I came down here. I have been neglecting my duties as care-giver and as such have decided to rectify that. I've got a mess of good food waiting upstairs, these warm blankets and an apology as a peace offering." He reached out a hand towards me and I thought about it for a moment.

I will admit, give me warmth and food and I'll pretty much do anything you want. I'm a food slut. I can't help it. "You got good food?" I asked, clutching the blankets around my neck tightly. My little excursions into Pitch's pantry were skimpy at best and I had been getting hungry.

He nodded. "There's bacon sizzling on the stove, eggs, cheese, and I've got three different types of toast. Trust me, if you stay here you're going to be well fed. Even though spirits don't need food."

I shrugged, sliding my slightly cold body off the couch and standing shakily. OK, so he was making up for his earlier negligence. In spades. "Lead the way Chef Ramses."

He did and soon I was huddled up on the black leather couch in the living room with my swath of blankets, watching the Boogeyman flipping eggs. I've gotta admit, watching him made me slightly jealous. Living with Cupcake had taught me the basics of culinary arts, like how to work a stove and a microwave, how to boil water, you know. Stupid shit. But this, this was like watching someone who had been properly cooking for decades whip up a quick meal. And, even though spirits didn't need to eat I got the feeling he liked to. A lot.

"Which begs the question why're you so skinny?"

Pitch turned around, still flipping the egg. "Hm? Did you say something Meggie?"

I snorted. "Just talking to myself." I told him. "Carry on."

He shrugged and turned back to his food, which he then finished a few minutes later. He slid the two plates down the counter, both steaming with freshly cooked eggs, sausage and some sliced fruit on the side. I heard a metallic pop as the toaster on the other side of the counter finished its duties and Pitch carried two slices of warm toast, cursing about how hot they were, back over to the plates and once they were sitting off to the side, he beckoned for me to come forward.

"I'm not letting you get egg all over my couch," he told me pointedly when I argued that I was still freezing. "Now come up here and eat like a civilized person."

I rolled my eyes skyward and hauled myself up to my feet, lumbering over to the barstool and clambered up. While I was a hell of a lot warmer than I had been earlier, I didn't actually perk up until he slid a cup of coffee my way which I eagerly pounced upon, draining it in a few swigs.

"Well, it's good to know that the youth of the spirit world hasn't completely succumbed to that disgusting foam crap." He remarked, taking a swig of his own coffee. I noticed he hadn't creamed or sugared it at all while mine was barely sweetened with creamer.

"Are you kidding?" I asked, shoveling eggs into my maw. "I couldn't live without coffee! I haven't had a decent cup in weeks!" He noticeably flinched and I had the grace not to mention it. Not that I could've, as I was too busy downing my coffee. I managed to down half the cup before needing to come up for air and when I did, a contented sigh escaped my lips. "Ahh, best thing I've ever tasted. My gods how do you make it taste so good?"

Pitch shrugged. "It's just pure Arabica coffee beans. There's a bit of chocolate in there too and my own secret blend of ingredients. I like to...ah... _spice _up my coffee. If you know what I mean." He smirked, bringing his own cup to his lips.

I didn't.

"Well, you know that the Aztecs used to put hot peppers in melted chocolate to give it a better taste? Then they would water it down and heat it up to make hot chocolate or Xocolatl, as it was called." He chuckled. "I picked the trick up from Quetzalcoatl. Makes it taste like heaven in a mug."

I nodded, my face still buried in my cup. "Mmm...it does indeed."

He took another draught. "Speaking of warming up, you don't need to worry about the cold in your room anymore." He assured me, taking a bite of eggs while I turned mine over and over with my fork. "While you have been holed away in my library I have been making certain… arrangements, shall we say."

I raised an eyebrow. "You've been what now?"

Pitch smiled secretive little smile that made me want to shake him until he spilled the beans. "Oh…nothing. I'll show you after we're finished eating." My curiosity alive and kicking, I tried to needle a bit more information out of him on the subject but he remained firm. "I will show you when we're done," he kept repeating. "And not before. Eat your toast."

I ate my toast like a ravenous beaver, shoving it into my mouth and not even bothering to chew all the way before gulping it down and draining my coffee cup. "Alright, now I've eaten." I told him proudly, sliding my plate across the table with a contented burp. "Now are you doing to show me what the heck you are talking about?"

Pitch shook his head. "No, now I'm going to do the dishes." He offered to take my plate. I agreed, watching him wash and dry them meticulously before sliding them into the cupboard above the sink. "I like to keep my caves as clean as possible," he told me as he finished putting away the last dish, turning to look at me. He wore a smile. "It's a very old habit which, I'm sorry to say, I cannot break."

I shrugged. "Fine by me, as long as you don't bitch at me to clean." I replied. I could clean, I just didn't like it. "Now can you please show me what you're talking about?! The suspense is killing me!"

Pitch chuckled. "Very well, come along then." He rose and beckoned me to follow him. I practically leaped off the stool, bounding over to him like an excited rabbit. He smirked. "My my, you're like a child at Christmas." He observed. "And you don't even know what I've _done_ yet."

I waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever it is," I told him firmly as we headed in the direction of my room. "It's gotta be good. Otherwise you wouldn't be trying to keep it a secret."

He inclined his head in agreement but remained silent until we reached the door to my old room. It was slightly ajar and Pitch reached across me to gallantly open the door. "Ladies first," he said.

I socked him in the exposed rib-cage as I passed. "I'm not a lady."

Pitch winced, rubbing his side. "No you certainly are not." He murmured but I didn't hear him. I was too busy staring in wonder at the room around me.

It was like walking into a whole other world. Pitch had taken my barren, dark, isolating room and transformed it into a warm, cheery space, covered in dripping candle-light. There was a small, brown dresser sitting in the corner, a desk with a comfy-looking chair upholstered in black fabric which was softer than silk and even a small bed-side table with a mirror, wash-basin and towel.

I stared, utterly transfixed by the astounding transformation my room had undergone. There still weren't any windows, but I could live without those, and in their place were about half a dozen torches hanging in iron brackets and candles sitting in elegant holders.

"Is…is this…?" I could barely speak. My eyes were wider than dinner plates as I took in all the splendor.

Pitch nodded, putting an arm around my shoulders. It felt strangely comforting. "Yes indeed. This is your room- or, your _new _room, I should say. Just a few odds and ends to make the caves a bit more comfortable. I hope you like it. I went through a lot of trouble to get all this here."

"But...but how?!" There, my voice was back. "How did you get all of this..." I gestured around to the furniture, "in here? And why?"

Pitch didn't answer my question. Instead, he steered me over to the bed which had also been re-outfitted. Instead of thin, useless blankets there were three thick comforters lying smoothly on the bed. The top one was black and without pattern, and behind it lay a long, body pillow. We sat down, Pitch watching me anxiously.

"Do...you like it?" He asked, running a hand over the fabric. "I got it from a department store. Not the best quality but I think it should do for the moment, don't you?"

I ran my own hand over the fabric. Silky smooth and gentle as water. "It's...luxurious." I murmured, rubbing the fabric between my fingertips. "Yes, I like it vey much."

Pitch nodded happily. "Good. Excellent. I'm so glad. And it's not all too gaudy? I was worried that you wouldn't like it because of the color. They had purple and black, but I chose black because it would be easier to wash. I hope that's alright. I would've consulted you but I wanted this to be a surprise."

I raised an eyebrow and he chuckled.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," Pitch told me, tilting his head slightly to the side and smiling innocently. "Of course I wasn't going to just leave you down here to freeze to death."

Now, both eyebrows were up.

"You heard me. I can't stand to see you so cold when I can't feel a thing." Oh gods, he was giving me those piteous eyes again. I thought I was going to melt. "I really shouldn't have let it go this long, but finding and moving this stuff took much longer than I intended it to. Oh, and you haven't even see it all yet! Come here, look at this." He stood and rushed over to the other side of the room, giddy as a schoolchild. I followed him, slightly amused and perplexed. There was more?

Indeed there was.

On the other side of the room, inlaid in the wall like a tiny doorway, was a small fireplace already loaded with logs. A small cache of tinder and yet more logs rested beside it, ready and waiting for use. I gawked. "You...put a fireplace in here...for me?"

He nodded. "Yes indeed. How else was I supposed to keep this room warm enough for you to live in?" Pitch asked, smiling before straightening up. "Now, I can help you move the furniture until it suits you of course, you needn't do it all yourself if you don't like the way it's all set up. If you need my help carrying your own belongings I will gladly help with that too. How many items do you own anyway?"

I shrugged. Things were slowly starting to make sense to me, though my mind was still racing. Pitch had spent at least two weeks of his own time looking for furniture for me. He had probably stolen it, which didn't bother me much. But still... he had invested all that time and effort for someone he barely knew. That made me wonder... "About as much as I can fit into my backpack." I replied idly. "Which isn't a whole lot."

Pitch nodded sympathetically. "I understand. Spirits hardly ever get to accumulate possessions unless they've lived for a long, long time as I have."

"Old timer," I teased, elbowing him gently in the side.

He chuckled. "Ten thousand five hundred and sixty-three years in March."

"No kidding?"

"Not in the least." He did sound dead serious. "I'm old, Meggie. Beneath this playful, mild-mannered exterior beats the heart of an ancient being with immesurable power at my fingertips."

"Uh huh, suuuuure."

From that point on, the Boogeyman and I enjoyed a pleasant- if slightly weird, relationship. He let me stay in my slightly luxurious room and do what I liked- up to a point, while I graciously allowed him to take up most of my spare time with talking and discussion. Instead of his previous base of interest for my powers- namely, the shape-changing aspect, now Pitch seemed to be more interested in the theoretical aspects. He based the majority of all his questions on the book he had found, as if I was just a sample. That bothered me a little bit but I let it slide. At least he had stopped asking me to Change.

This new deal did come with limitations, however. Pitch insisted on having breakfast with me at least one day a week, seeing him at least once a day and, if that were not possible, then at least I have to speak to Onyx. All of it well and good, easy to remember. And, while I didn't like being told what to do, I could humble myself enough to comply with these simple requests.

Of course, I had a few little conditions as to my living arrangement of my own; I wasn't to be bugged until at least nine O'clock by _anyone_\- this included the Nightmares, I wouldn't be bothered about cleaning and keeping my room neat- which I would do in any case. I just didn't like being bitched at. But most of all...I wanted to keep that book. The one Pitch had found about the Changelings.

Pitch had agreed on all accounts, including the book. Luckily for him. Otherwise I would have just taken it anyway. But he did allow me to have it and, once my room was inhabitable again I spent hours and hours at a time pouring over that book, scanning the pages and letting the information slither into my mind to be filed away. Pitch probably noticed my obsession- given that it caused me to barely ever leave my room for a three-day stretch, and even if he did I didn't hear anything about it. Which was, again, luckily for him.

The Boogeyman was...an interesting individual, to say the least. The more I learned about him, the more I wanted to know. And the feeling was evidently mutual. While Pitch respected my space and let me be when I asked it, he also was slightly pushy when it came to learning more about my powers. He seemed to want to know more about them than I did, as a matter of fact. Every few days he would find me in either the library or in the kitchen and riddle me with questions. It got so annoying that, after a little argument about whither the Change would always hurt, I decided that enough was enough.

"Look," I told Pitch firmly, raising my hand to interrupt his flow of questions. We were sitting on the barstools in front of the kitchen. I was picking at my dinner- pork chops and mashed potatoes with sausage gravy, with a silver fork. Pitch had already eaten his dinner and his plate now stood idly by, waiting for him to put it in the sink. "I know you're trying to help but this is really starting to bug me. I get that you want to know about what I can do- hell, I do too! But I'm ready to learn about it as I go along, while you seem to want to force all my magic- or whatever this stuff it, right here right now."

Pitch had the good grace to look ashamed. "I'm sorry Meggie, you're right. I have been pushing you too hard." He looked up at me, trying to appeal to my moral compass. "I just want to know what kind of spirit you are. It's been eating away at me for so long, knowing that you don't know and that I have the power to tell you but I can't if you don't give me anything!"

I sighed, taking a bite of pork chop and chewing it thoughtfully. He was right. I wasn't giving him much to go on. And our original agreement _was _based on the fact that he would help me learn more about myself. Without that, our mutual basis for all the trust between us might evaporate. I went to open my mouth to tell Pitch that it wasn't his fault he was curious, that I would try to be more compliant in the future and would answer any questions he had, to the best of my ability but before I could get the first word out, Pitch shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said again, and went to take my empty plate. I stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

"There's nothing to be sorry for." I told him firmly, looking into his eyes. "I understand your wanting to help me, but I can't tell you much about me that I haven't already told you. At least, not in the spiritual sense."

The Boogeyman got out half a nod before his face froze. A small frown crept across his brow and I raised an eyebrow. I knew that frown.

"What?" I asked suspiciously.

A small smile creased his lips and he slid the plates smoothly into the sink before coming back to his barstool, regarding me thoughtfully. "You say there isn't much about you that I don't already know?"

I nodded. "Not really. You know my name, you know what I look like, you know what I eat, where I sleep, what I read, where I go, you know almost everything about me!" Then I thought about it. "And...I don't know hardly anything about you."

Pitch raised an eyebrow. "Me? What could you possibly want to know about me?"

I folded my arms across my chest. "Well, you're a spirit, that I know.. And you've obviously been around for a while. But, like, how long? Do you know anybody famous? And when am I going to meet this illustrious family of yours? I haven't seen anybody here except for you and Onyx. And if you tell me the Horse is your family I'm out of here." I added, smirking.

Pitch shrugged. "Fair enough. We both have things we want to learn about one another." He stood. "I suggest we have take this conversation to the couch and offer up answers to each others questions. Call it a heart to heart."

I shrugged. Sounded like a good idea to me.

We made our way over to the couch and sat down on opposite sides, watching each other carefully. "So..." I asked after a few seconds. "How does this work? Do I ask you a question and then you ask me a question? Or do I ask a question and we both answer, then you ask the question? Or-"

"I think we'll just stick with the second option." Pitch interrupted, raising a hand. "How does that sound?"

Smiling, I replied, "Sounds good. Who goes first?"

Pitch shrugged. "You, if you want. And don't feel like you need to share everything," he added, looking at me earnestly. "Anything you're not comfortable sharing, you don't have to. But that goes for me too, just so you know."

I raised an eyebrow. "Wow. I had no idea the Boogeyman was so courteous."

Pitch gave a half-hearted shrug but didn't offer up any comment.

I leaned against the back of the couch, thinking. What questions could I ask that he could answer? "Alright. First question: What kind of music do you like?"

Pitch rolled his eyes. "Really?"

"Yes really. It's a start."

"Fair enough. Are we talking genres of music, singers or bands?"

"Genres."

"Classical." There was no hesitation. "You?"

I shrugged. "Rock mostly. Old stuff, according to Cu- my...friend." I added lamely. Bugger. That was the one thing I hadn't gotten around to telling Pitch that he would really get pissed over; Cupcake's role in helping me. Hopefully he didn't notice the slip-up!

He did, peering at me thoughtfully. "That's another thing I wanted to know. Didn't you say something about someone helping you earlier? When you had to leave that first night?"

Trying to look haughty, I lifted my hands to my hips, speaking to him like one would a small child. "Now how are you going to answer a question like that? I thought we had a deal Boogerman, you ask I answer, then you answer."

Pitch sighed. "Alright alright, keep your secrets Meggie." He told me, raising his hands in defeat. "And speaking of which, where did you get your name?"

Thrown by the statement, I blinked. "What?"

Pitch tapped his finger on the arm of the couch patiently as he spoke. "Depending on the spirit, they can either be re-born with or without their memories. You were re-born without yours and subsequently, you should have been re-born without a name as well. So either you do have a name and that's the only thing you remember of your previous life, or you took your name from somewhere else. So which is it? And this question I can actually answer." He added when I opened my mouth to protest.

I shrugged. The story of how I had gotten my name was... a rather amusing one, to say the least. But, since it had to do with Cupcake and various other personages I didn't want to tell him about, I decided to simply say, "I got it from a book."

Pitch raised an eyebrow. "A book?"

"Yeah. Series, actually. Inkworld. There's a girl in there called Meggie. I liked the name, so I took it." Not entirely true, but at least I was sticking to the truth as much as I could.

He nodded. "Huh. Interesting."

"And you?"

"Well, the Fearlings gave me my name." He told me, swallowing as if the memory was something he would rather not discuss. "They started whispering to me from the moment I opened my eyes to the pitch blackness. That's where it came from. I never liked it but eventually grew into it, treating it rather like a title than a name."

"I thought you were called the King of Nightmares?" I asked curiously. "Isn't that what you told me?"

He nodded. "That's a title I earned a long time ago. Now, I'm regarded as a Guardian of Childhood, Guardian of Courage."

We went back and forth for a while, learning more and more about each other with each word out of our respective mouths. After the little confrontation earlier, we switched to easier questions. Favorite colors, food, books, milkshake flavor- that last one's inspiration had come from my run-in with the local diner the other night and, more importantly, their milkshakes. Pitch willingly answered all of it. I had harder time. It was slightly stressful, trying to answer simple little questions like these. Pitch noticed this and suggested gently that I go to my room and get some shut-eye.

"I'm not tired," I protested when Pitch tried to steer me towards my room.

He stopped. "You look exhausted Meggie." He told me, looking me up and down critically. "I'm not trying to insult you, but you really do look like you've been staying up far too late at night."

"I thought you said spirits don't need sleep." I teased but Pitch didn't smile.

"Not true. They don't need to eat. Sleep is something all beings need. It's a basic necessity, to help expunge all neurological waste from the mind. And with spirits, it helps replicate and rejuvenate our magic from the previous day's use. I know you don't use much magic, but it still helps."

I sighed. "I'll sleep later. Alright?"

He looked me in the eye. "Promise?"

I nodded and left the kitchen, but I didn't go to my room.

Instead, I headed down to the library. Something was needling me about my powers and I wanted to settle it before I went to sleep. The truth was, I hadn't been using my power a whole lot. At all, actually. Not since my Change-back from that weird child's form. The most magic I used these days was my ability to fly, and that was only for travel.

I made it to the library in a matter of minutes and, when the double-doors swung open I made immediately for my favorite chair by the fire. There was a stack of books all ready and waiting from my last visit to this place a few days ago and I eagerly pounced on them, scanning through the books like endless pages of data, trying to use the books as a mask while my true thoughts were centered around whither I should try to Change again. It was true, the pain had gotten lesser with each time and that gave me hope that one day it might be gone altogether but, for now, the pain was more powerful than my hope.

"Maybe one of these days," I murmured, putting the book down and picking up another. _The Theory Of Spiritual Entities. _I finished the first chapter after a few minutes but my mind was still off wandering and so barely registering anything I was reading. This time, my thoughts were centered around Cupcake and how much I missed her. I hadn't seen her in at least two days.

Over the three months before I had met the Boogeyman, we had gotten to know each other pretty well. Cupcake was such a good kid. I learned she had a small group of friends she loved to hang out with, that she absolutely loved the color pink and that, in spite of her girliness she was actually a very smart, strong young woman. According to her, the kids at her school had once thought she was a bully, but not anymore. I couldn't have told you by the look of her, but after the first few weeks I discovered she was a very calm and easy-going person.

This matched perfectly with my personality. I was impulsive, headstrong and determined for things to go my way. She was clever and equally headstrong, but she knew when to let things sit back and come to her. It was like I had a little angel on my shoulder, every time I had to make a choice around her. She was the voice of reason that had helped me in many a situation, especially in my early months when I was first figuring out my powers and their limits, and that had taken a long time.

It was slow at first. Apart from my hair, I barely noticed anything unusual about me. When I looked in that little mirror all I saw was a normal girl, purple-haired, slightly over-weight girl and, though the hair itself was enough to make me question who and _what _I was, Cupcake provided enough of an explanation when I woke up the following morning to make me doubt that there had been any green to begin with. It had been just a trick of the light, she had told me. Or my hair had always been purple, but neither of us had noticed the color through the thick grime. All good ideas.

But all wrong.

It hadn't been the light. And it hadn't been my imagination. It was, simply put, a part of me. An unessential part and, at times a quite annoying one, but it was a part of me none the less. It attributed to my personality, helped give me a sense of myself. And because of that, even though I didn't fully understand it, I accepted it.

There were some parts of me, however, that took a lot longer for me to accept and even longer for me to understand.

Shortly after I decided to make my permanent residence here- after no small amount of begging from Cupcake I might add, we discovered that she _wasn't _in fact the only one that could see me.

It had happened the morning after my second night staying in Cupcake's room. I had been up all night last night and the day before that, helping Cupcake scour the internet for articles of missing girls that matched my description. We had come up completely empty, with no trace of anyone who looked like me both times and I was starting to get worried.

_What if I was just a homeless person? _I kept thinking. What if I just lost my memory because there was no one for me to remember in the first place?

Cupcake had tried her hardest to get me to believe that wasn't true and that I did have a family out there, searching for me, but in my heart I knew that wasn't true. If I did, I would remember them. Right? Well, in any case, I wasn't in the best of moods when Cupcake was called downstairs after she had turned off her computer in defeat, though she had still had that bright glint of encouragement in her eyes.

"We'll find you sooner or later," she had told me, trying to make me feel better. Then her mother's voice had drifted up through the open bedroom door.

"Margaret, your sister is here!"

Cupcake's eyes grew wide and she leaped from her chair, crossing the floor in three excited hops. "Jessira!" She cried happily, running for the door. Then she stopped right at the threshold and turned back guiltily. "I'm sorry," she apologized breathlessly. "But I haven't seen my sister in a long time. You don't mind, do you?" She seemed less concerned about me and more concerned about seeing her sister, so I just nodded and waved a hand at the door.

"Sure, go ahead."

She flashed me a brilliant white smile. "Thanks! I'll be back in a minute!" Then she took off down the stairs like a pink mini-cyclone, clomping away without a care in the world.

I watched her leave, then turned to look at the window. There was an uncomfortable feeling in my gut, like something very very cold had burned its way inside of me and was now turning everything else in me to ice. I shivered, wondering idly how easy it would be for me to just...slip away. Run, leave while I still could. The girl would soon forget about me, like whatever family I had had before I lost my memories evidently had done, because I couldn't see any evidence of someone wanting to find me.

I know now, looking back on it, that I was stupid to think that. Thinking of myself as unloved and unwanted. It was childish, to want to run from my only friend and ally, just because I hadn't gotten what I wanted after only _two days _of searching. However, looking back on it, it also made sense to me why I was thinking like that. I did feel alone and unloved. I hadn't realized yet that, according to Pitch, there was a purpose to my lost memories. That I didn't need them in order to form new, better ones with other people. Something I was slowly starting to learn from my time with the Boogeyman.

Well, to say the least I wasn't in the best of sorts when Cupcake left. And If she hadn't come back a few minutes later I probably would've left too. But she did, and when I turned from the window to look at her standing in the doorway with her arms loaded with gifts and boxes I saw a wide smile plastered over her face and her cheeks were flushed with excitement.

I raised an eyebrow. "Well, I see you made out well." I commented dryly.

She was still grinning. "Oh yeah, Jessi always brings me great presents after she comes home from a trip!" The so called 'great presents' were also apparently heavy, because after a few seconds of standing there she ran for the bed and dropped them on the bedspread, then sat down and started sorting through everything, talking at rapid-fire pace as she did so. "Oh my gosh she bought me a brand new pair of boxing gloves, and- and- and a new set of Artemis Fowls, and- oh my gosh you should see the _clothes!_" She picked up a purple sweatshirt that had what looked like a logo on the back. "Here!" She said, tossing it to me. "See if this fits!"

I was totally unprepared for it and got a face full of cloth. "Ow!"

She winced. "Sorry."

I pulled the sweatshirt off my face, grumbling and shook it out. It was a logo: **Crystal Dagger**. The type reminded me of a nineteen sixties ad poster, which made sense, as Margaret had told me earlier that her sister was a boxer. I pulled the sweatshirt on over the shirt Cupcake had lent me. It was a bit snug, but it was warm and I burrowed into it, taking in the scents of gasoline and perfume and the subtle scent of cigarettes. It made me cough, so I took it off and handed it back to her.

"Not my size," I lied, just in case Cupcake didn't know about her sister's unhealthy habit.

She shrugged and tossed it on the other side of her bed, then started going through her new things again. "Well, in any case I'm sure there's some other stuff in here that you'll like. Let's see, some hair sparkles- can't imagine you liking that but you never know, more books- OH MY GOSH SHE GOT ME THE HARDBACK EDITION!"

I winced. "And...you're excited about this...why?" I asked, looking at the bulky books with a measure of distaste. From what I could see, they were all cheesy pre-teen books.

Cupcake clutched the book to her chest, staring at me with wide eyes as if I had just spoken an utterly foul curse. "Because," she said quietly, almost reverently, looking down at the book in her arms. "This book, is one I have been wanting for for six whole years! It's completely impossible to find, and I've been looking for it ever since I was a child"

"You're still a child," I pointed out testily.

She gave me a look. "Well y_eah, _but since I was a younger child."

I nodded my head, too annoyed and too tired to argue any more. Like I said I was not in the best of moods, and it wasn't making me any happier to be upstaged by a pile of what were basically bribes given to represent lost time with her sister.

Thankfully I was soon distracted from my misery by the sound of voices wafting up from the hallway. It sounded like her sister and mother were calling for her.

"Hey, kid you're being paged." I grunted, not turning around to look at her.

Cupcake looked up from her presents. "Huh?" Then she heard them herself and jumped up, running over to the open door and peeking her head out. "What's going on mom?" She hollered.

It was time for dinner, or so Cupcake told me when she had finished listening to her mom. She had crossed the room, her face flushed with excitement and cried, "We're having KFC!"

"Whoo." I said flatly, looking away from her.

Finally, Cupcake seemed to sense something was wrong with me because her smile shrank by a few molars and she peered at me with concern. "Hey, you OK?" She asked.

I rolled my eyes. _Do I bloody look OK?! _"Oh _fine_," I told her, trying to sound as disinterested and bored as I possibly could. "I'm just _fine_. _Dandy _even. You go on ahead and go have dinner with your family. I'll just sit up here and watch the bugs flying into your window."

Cupcake frowned, her suspicions confirmed. "Something is wrong." She said, more to herself than to me. "What's up?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

"Hey-"

"Hay is for horses." I snapped. "And I'm no horse. So why don't you just make like a fly and buzz off."

I'll admit that I was a little more short with her than I really should have been, and the instant the words were out of my mouth I wanted to apologize to her. But my damn stubborn pride, the only flaw I haven't found to be useful as of yet, got in the way and I refused to let her see my weakness.

Cupcake took a step back as if struck by my harsh words. She stared at me for a long time, and I held her gaze, just _daring _her to comment. I was ready with a thousand more acidic responses, ready to fling them at her like stones, but she remained silent and, after a few more minutes, she turned around and walked away.

I watched her leave and close the door behind her, giving me one last side-long glance as the door slowly swung shut. I held her gaze until it disappeared behind the door, then I threw myself onto the bed with a disgusted sigh.

"_Fool_," I whispered to myself, curling up and resting my hands over my face. "What an utter and complete fool I am." I had probably just ruined the best chance of finding my family that I had, and over what?! Being jealous because some inanimate slabs of paper and cardboard were getting her attention more than me? How pathetic is that...

_You're not pathetic, _that same little voice that had consoled me the night before whispered. _A little rough around the edges, snarky and Vell-may-care with your attitude and decisions, but not pathetic._

"Oh?" I asked it aloud, forgetting that I was, in fact talking to myself. "And how would you know?"

_I know. _The voice replied. _I know because not everybody could have done what you did and survived with their sanity intact. Or, _it amended. _What is left of your sanity at any rate._

_That _made me sit up and frown. "_Done what I did..._" I repeated, frowning. "What's that supposed to mean?"

But the voice was silent.

"Hey!" I smacked myself upside the head. "Hey, you still there? What is that supposed to mean, _not everybody could've done what I did?_ What did I do?!"

But the voice refused to speak and I fell back against the mattress dejectedly. "_Great_," I grumbled. "_Now even the voices in my head are withholding information from me_." Then I smirked. "Well _there's _a sentence you don't hear every day!"

I lay in silence for a long while, staring up at the cracks in the pink ceiling paint and tracing patterns with my eyeballs. There were circles, squares, rectangles, right triangles, rhombuses and even a dodecahedron or two in there, as well as some stains that resembled words. I tried to fit them together in a sentence.

"The...grey...snake...shits...past...dawn." I murmured, reaching up with my finger and tracing circles in the air idly. "Well that's quite a story there." I glanced down and saw one of Cupcake's books laying next to me. The jacket was a bright scarlet and trimmed in gold lace patterned on the corners, and in the center there was a 3-D hand reaching up from the depths of a picture that featured a lake and a castle with orange flames roaring from the windows. There were also miscellaneous items like shells, coins, gems, pearls and even a key scattered across the lower part of the cover, with a fairy and a green lizard looking out at me.

I flipped it open out of curiosity, expecting to see more of that teenage drivel that the other books had but, to my dismay when I skimmed through the first few pages I actually found it an interesting story, all about magic and silver tongues and fire-breathers and monsters and all sorts of wondrous things. So I decided to keep reading- hell, it would be a way to pass the time, and tracing pictures in the ceiling was getting old. I managed to get ot the twelfth chapter before I decided to put the book down, and I did so reluctantly. It was a good one, but there were more important things I had to do than read.

"Like figure out how I'm gonna apologize to Cupcake," I muttered, sitting up and slipping a bookmark between the pages. I looked out the window. Lamps glowed gently in the darkness of the streets, illuminating the windows of other houses across the road. I knew I had to do it soon, or else she might kick me out and I might lose any hopes of finding my family. _But what do I say?! _I asked myself. Apologizing didn't come naturally to me, it seemed, and I found myself completely at a loss.

It was then that the little voice in my head spoke up again, volunteering an answer. _You could just say I'm sorry. That tends to work._

I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity. "Oh yeah, right. _I'm sorry Cupcake, I have little to no faith in you or myself, so forgive me if I'm a bit short with you._" I said in a cruelly mocking voice, then I snorted. "Yeah, like _that's _gonna work."

_You never know. _The voice told me. _Sometime the simplest things make the most impact._

I shrugged. That was true. Little things were what made the world go round. Little things made up big things. The influences on us made up the decisions we made and the choices we chose.

_Why don't you try it? _The little voice offered. _It might shed some light on things._

I thought about it for another few minutes, then decided that the voice was right. I should apologize, and the sooner the better. I didn't want my first friendship to go up in smoke, and with this thought in my mind I stood up and made for the door, intending on going to her and apologizing, regardless where she was and who was there. as long as she heard me and knew that I meant it, it was worth any amount of weird looks form her parents.

I was so busy thinking about what I would say and how I would say it that I wasn't paying attention to the important things, like my surroundings. I didn't hear the creak of footsteps outside the door, nor see the shadow peeking out from the crack between door and floor. And by the time I reached forward to twist the knob and started to see it turn before my fingers got anywhere near it, it was far too late.

"Hey sis, I wanted to see if you knew where my black jeans are! I'm going out with mom to get ice cream and I don't want to go in my-"

The door opened and I stopped dead, staring right into the equally startled green eyes of Cupcake's sister.

We both stood very, very still. Neither of us spoke as we looked each other up and down. I wasn't sure what she was seeing, but I was seeing a very very big, muscly girl with short, choppy black hair styled in the same way as her younger sister, wearing a black T-shirt and a black pair of boxers, both patterned with skulls. Her eyes were slightly darker than Cupcake, almost black and I stared into those black eyes like a mouse in front of a snake.

Finally, after a long moment she spoke.

"Who are you?" She asked. Her voice was soft and confused, the exact opposite of what I would've expected to hear from a woman of her size. She was at least half a foot taller than I was for Vallar's sake!

I gulped. _Here it goes, don't screw this up or you're going to get pummeled. _"I'm a friend of Cupcake- Margaret," I amended when the sister's thick black eyebrows rose. "I'm a friend of Margaret's."

She looked me up and down again, taking in my rumpled clothes, unbrushed hair and eyes that were pleading for her to believe me. "What's your name?" She asked me, her penetrating black eyes staring straight into mine as if reading my thoughts.

_Oh shit. _My eyes widened and I'm nearly positive my face turned void of all color. "Ah... Um..." I stammered, trying to come up with an answer, an excuse, something to say to her as a response but my mind had gone utterly blank.

Her eyebrow rose a little higher. "Ah-um?" She said, giving me a small smile. "That's an interesting name. Where are you from, Ah-um?"

I was half-torn between terror and amusement. "N-no," I said, trying not to stammer. "That's n-not my name."

"Then what is it?"

I glanced around for inspiration. Why could I not think of a single damn _name _to use?! The longer I deliberated the more doubtful she would become and then she probably wouldn't believe me no matter what I told her. Then, like a bolt from above, a name flashed in my mind. Meggie. "Meggie," I said, a little louder than I meant to.

Jessira frowned. "Pardon?"

_Last chance, no going back! _I took a deep breath. "Meggie," I repeated, looking her straight in the eye and trying to keep the quaver out of my voice. "My name is Meggie." Meggie. The girl from the book I had been reading not five minutes ago. Why had I chosen _that _name, of all names?

She folded her arms and hummed thoughtfully. "Well, _Meggie_. Mind telling me what you're doing in my sister's room? I wasn't aware Margaret had any friends over, and we just had dinner. Why didn't you come down?"

I was starting to squirm under her unwavering gaze but I tried not to let my nervousness show. "I...wasn't hungry." I replied, trying to make it sound less like an excuse and more like a fact. "Margaret invited me over after I had already had dinner when I got here."

She nodded, looking like she believed this. "Ah. That makes sense."

I let out a silent sigh of relief. _Whew. That was close. _Now if only I could just keep her from talking to her parents all would be just- I froze. Her eyes had suddenly flicked downwards and her gaze grew steely.

"Wha- what's wrong?" I asked, cursing my damn stammer.

Her eyes snapped back up to mine and she asked, in a cold voice that was completely devoid of any of her earlier kindness, "Why are you wearing my shirt?"

My eyes widened. _Oh shit!_ _My clothes!_ I hadn't even _thought_ about that! I was still wearing the borrowed clothes from the night before, the grey long-sleeves T-shirt and sweat pants, because I hadn't thought to change into anything else. My over-sight might just've gotten me into a whole heap of trouble. "Um…well, ya see…" I said, trying to come up with an excuse. Why couldn't I stop stammering?!

"_And_ my pants?!" The sister continued, staring at the aforementioned garments. I could tell she was getting angry.

"Look, Margaret gave them to me!" I told her, so desperate to get out of this situation that I decided to just tell her the truth and hope she didn't drag me downstairs. "I needed clothes, and they were the closest thing to my size so she borrowed them. I'm sorry, and I'll give them back as soon as I find something else to wear!"

Jessira narrowed her eyes. "Margaret gave these to you?" She repeated slowly, her black eyes staring straight past my mind and into my very soul.

I nodded slowly. I could feel my body trembling.

She looked at me for a long moment, and when she spoke her voice told me she was in no mood for games. "Tell me your real name," she ordered with the air of somebody expecting to be obeyed. "Now, before I call the police."

_I'm screwed anyway,_ I thought. _Might as well stick to the lie and pray she believes me._ "My name is Meggie," I insisted, trying my best to make it sound believable. "I live here in town, just up the street."

Her eyes narrowed still further. "You're lying."

My eyes widened and I took a step back. "No, please, I'm-"

In two seconds she had crossed the threshold and had a hold of my arm, twisting it while her black eyes burned with anger. "You're _lying!_" She snarled, trying to twist my arm behind my back. I let out a cry of agony and tried to pull away, but she held me in a vise-like grip. "You're just a miserable little thief, trying to come in and steal everything right out from under our noses!"

"Let me go I'm not a thief!" I yelled, tugging at my arm as hard as I could and, through some miracle I managed to pull free. I leaped back and crouched down in a feral cat-position, my reflexes taking hold of me. My mind was buzzing with thoughts, worries and voices, telling me a thousand things to do. _Run! _Don't run! _Strike her! _Call for help! _Call for Margaret! Call somebody! Call the fire brigade! _WHAT?! _Oh my gods I'm gonna die. _The sister still looked furious.

"If you're not a thief then what are you?!" Jessira demanded, glaring at me.

I had no response for that, so I did the only thing I could do. I took a deep breath, turned around, and _bolted_.

Now, up until this point I had probably gone through some very bad things in my lifetime. Losing my memories and whatnot, and even before that I was sure my life wasn't a basket of roses, but what happened next was probably the worst thing that had happened to me so far.

Jessira had ahold of me before I even moved a foot. She grabbed my left hand and tried to twist it around my back again but this time I was ready and I ducked under and tried to get ot the door, but this time she full-scale tackled me like a freight train and brought me to the ground. I landed hard on my shoulder, pain rocketing up and down my arm as I rolled over onto my back, but I didn't even have an instant to register it before the sister had reached me. She grabbed me by the front of my shirt and started shaking me like a rag doll.

"HOW DARE YOU BREAK INTO OUR HOME!" She bellowed, throwing me backwards and I landed for a second time, this time a little bit softer as I was prepared for it. I allowed my behind to absorb most of the shock and lay there, thinking dark thoughts about how once I got out of this mess Cupcake was _sooo _going to owe me, for several seconds until I was able to focus on my current situation.

_Ok, she thinks I'm a burglar, and she's going to beat the shit out of me unless I convince her otherwise . . .yeah I'm pretty well screwed. _The sister was a welter-weight world-class boxer for Pete's sake! I was going to get _seriously _messed up unless I managed to either get away or ger Cupcake up here, and neither of those looked like they were going to happen any time soon.

Still, I figured I might as well try.

"I didn't break in!" I told her as calmly as I could, under the circumstances. She was looming over me like an angel of death- albeit a furious one, and I had to fight hard to hold her gaze and not look away out of sheer fear. "Margaret let me in, and-"

But she cut me off before I could finish by kicking me hard in the stomach. "Shut up!" She snarled, bending down to my level and yanked me up until my face was inches from hers. "I should throw you out the window for even _daring _to some into my sister's room and take her cloths! What have you taken?!" She wrapped those thick fingers around my wrist again and _squeezed_. "Tell me right now, or I'll give you a beating you'll never forget!"

Tears began to well in my eyes from the pain and it was all I could do to grit my teeth and force words past the scream that was so badly wanting to bubble up in my throat. "I didn't...break...in." I repeated, trying to look her in the eye but everything was too watery for me to see her clearly. "I didn't break in...and I didn't take anything. Go on," I told her, finally alighting on a solution that might make her let go of me! "Ask Margaret if you don't...believe me. She'll tell you."

But she didn't go to her sister. She only grew more agitated and eventually, though she did let go of me, it wasn't for the reasons I wanted.

I felt my body hit the floor and only had an instant to feel the relief flooding through me before I heard her voice above me.

"Get out."

I rolled over onto my back to that I could see her fully, but my eyes were still a little blurry though most of my tears were soaking into the carpet beside me. "What?"

She nudged me with her foot, firing up old aches and pains. "Get out of this house," she repeated. "Now. I don't want to see you here ever again."

_Oh shit. This was not going well. _"Please, just talk to Margaret!" I begged her, silently berating myself for sinking so low but there was no other option. "She'll tell you, I'm not a thief and I'm not a liar!"

Suddenly I felt a sharp stab of pain as the foot that had previously nudged me gave me a sharp kick in the side to get me moving. I curled in on myself, letting out a shriek of agony and clutching my ribs as spasms of pain wracked my body. Probably a rib broken.

"I told you to leave." She told me in a voice that brooked no arguing. "Now."

But I, as an idiot, didn't hear it. I was too wrapped up in my pain that by that time I had no control over what I was saying. Words flowed out, along with tears, in a stammerous nonsensical stream of babbling. "P-please," I pleaded with her. It was a miracle she could even understand me. "Please, just talk to her! She'll tell you! I swear I'm not a thief please-"

But before I could finish she interrupted me with another swift kick and a shout. "Get out!" She shouted. "Get out of this house right now, and don't you ever come near me or my sister again or I swear I'm going to beat the hell out of you. _Thief_." She spat, then turned away from me in disgust and started to walk towards the door.

Anger that had been reduced to a bed of dull coals suddenly blazed to life, greedily gobbling up all of my pain and sadness and turning it into fuel for my inner fire. I shot to my feet, ignoring all the pain that shot up my legs and probably would've _killed _anybody else, but I was running off of pure rage and as such didn't give a damn. "HEY!" I shouted, my eyes blazing with fury. How dare she turn her back on me! How _dare _she insult me, call me _thief! How dare she!_

Jessira turned around but before she even registered what I said I found myself running full-tilt at her. When we impacted it blew her off her feet and back across the room where we both slammed into the door, her body softening the majority of the impact. And it was a good thing she did, because I'm pretty sure I heard something crack.

_Good, _I thought maliciously as I tried not to groan. The effort of launching myself across the room had taken quite a lot out of me, and as such the only other action I was able to follow up with was rolling off of her and to the ground where I lay, cursing myself for an idiot. Not for tackling her- I didn't regret that at all. She deserved it, insulting me like she did -but for doing it _so damn hard! _Honestly, what _had _I been thinking?!

Good question. Answer: I hadn't. Thinking wasn't really my forte.

And neither, apparently, was luck.

What I had thought to be a serious blow to the forehead actually turned to be no more than a temporary concussion and a few seconds later I heard Jessira groan and pull back from the wall. I glanced up at her as she turned her face. I cringed. Her face was all bruised up and bloody from a cut right on the bridge of her nose, her right eye had a lovely black and purple bruise and she had a furious scowl on her face.

"_Fine_," she snarled, glaring at me with her good eye. Her hands were both curled into claw-like fists around the pink plushy carpet and I could tell I was about to have a fight on my hands. "You want to play it that way? _Fine_. Let's play you little brat!" She flung herself at me and I had to tuck and roll as fast as I could to keep her from landing on top of me. She landed a few inches short but still tried to reach me, scrabbling and scratching at the air between her and my ankle.

I yanked my ankle away and army-crawled a few feet in mere seconds, then I turned to face her. My blood was pumping, rushing through my ears. I wanted a fight but my mind said _no, don't do it! You're making a mistake_!

"I _do not_... want to hurt you," I told her firmly through my ragged, heaving breaths. The anger from before was still there, making me see red and mixing together with the fear and frustration in my mind, forcing me to struggle to keep my voice steady.

She laughed humorlessly. I could see the wildness in her eyes. She was too far gone. Either she was going to hurt me, or I was going to hurt her. "Then you shouldn't have picked a fight!" She snarled, springing to her feet and leaping for me again. This time she caught me, grabbing my by the hair and yanking me down where she then proceeded to pummel my face with a flurry of hammer-like blows.

I tried to scream but another punch silenced me. It was amazing how aware of myself I was, even when I was being yanked back and forth like a rag-doll. I could feel the blood vessels popping under the pressure of her hits, I could feel the cartilage in my nose _groaning _under pressure like the staves in a full barrel until it finally caved in, breaking with a sharp crack like a gunshot.

Blood started rushing from my nose. Hot, sticky blood that flowed onto the borrowed shirt like a river let loose from a long pent-up dam. I winced as a few drips fell into my mouth. It tasted metallic and bitter, like someone had just spoon-fed me liquidized iron.

I think it was the taste of my own blood that did it. Or it might've just been an internal defense mechanism, like animals do when they are threatened, because suddenly all the noise that was flooding my ears- Jessira's yells and curses, the cracking of bones and the rushing of blood in my ears it all of a sudden...stopped. And there was nothing but silence.

It was like a scene in a movie. One where everything slows down to a tenth of the normal speed. I opened my eyes just a split second before Jessira was going to drive yet another fist into my face. We locked gazes, her fist still hovering in the air. I felt fury welling up inside me at the sight of that fist. Fury that turned into hot, boiling lava which snaked into my veins and set my eyes ablaze. How _dare _she...

I looked Jessira dead in the eyes. They were so wide and shocked that I could see my own eyes glittering back, reflected in them. But they weren't green, like the eyes I had seen in Cupcake's mirror. They were black as shining coals. I smiled again, looking past my black eyes and right into her brown ones. I could see in her eyes that she could already tell what I was about to do, which made sense. She was an experienced fighter, after all, with hours of fight-time under her belt. It would make sense that she would be able to see any resistance coming.

She might be able to see it, but she wouldn't be able to stop it. I was too pissed for that now.

She opened her mouth. "You-" she said, but before she could finish I pulled back my weak and battered feet, took a deep breath, then kicked Jessira hard in the stomach.

The impact was like hitting concrete from five feet up in the air. It jarred both of us and sent me skidding back a few inches, my knees throbbing. Jessira flew across the room like a perfectly-arched football and landed with a heavy thud in a corner. Her neck snapped backwards with the impact and her head hit the wall, hard. Hard enough to leave a dent in the plaster but not hard enough to knock her out. I lay there, breathing hard, wondering wildly _where the hell that had come from?! _A few seconds ago I had been lying on the floor, cowering as I was being hit like a sack of flour! Now I was a frikking ninja?!

_You are nobody's punching bag, _that little voice in my head told me through the blood rushing in my head. _Not anymore._

But before I had a chance to ponder what that meant I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. I glanced up, recognizing those footsteps. It was Cupcake's gorgeous steel-toes and from the shadows peeking out from under the door she was standing right outside! I barely had a few seconds before the door flew open and there she stood, staring in horror at us.

"What-" She stammered, staring from me to Jessira. We stared back at her, both of us, Jessira too shocked to look away and I was in too much pain. "What the hell is going on here?!" She finally managed, putting her hands on her hips.

I opened my mouth to respond, but before a single word could leak from my lips, bolts of _unimaginable _pain began to race down my body like streaks of lightning. My arm that had been supporting me buckled and then caved and I fell with a sharp cry of pain which grew as the pain intensified. It was like liquid fire was being poured through a gaping wound in my chest and flowing down through my veins, perforating every single orifice and turning my body to pure, unbridled fire.

I screamed, clutching at my stomach as the flames inside me writhed and danced. _What's happening to me?! _I couldn't speak, I could barely even _breathe _the pain was so unimaginable.

I felt a hand on my shoulder- Cupcake's.

_No! _I thought wildly, trying to roll away from her. _She's going to get burned!_

"What's wrong?!" Yes, that was her. I could tell by the sound of her voice. She sounded absolutely terrified and my heart wrenched with guilt that I was making her so scared. "Hey, what's wrong with you?"

I was wondering the same thing, but whatever was happening to me wasn't as important as keeping Cupcake safe. I tried to speak, tried to tell her to get away from me, but my mouth refused to do anything more than emit another high-pitched scream of agony. But I couldn't let her get hurt. The flames were growing, finding cracks. My eyes, my mouth. I felt like I was breathing sparks and what little sight I had turned red as fresh blood.

Now, at this point I'm pretty sure I would have taken any option to get away from this pain. And I do mean _anything_. It was that excruciating and little did I know, it was only going to get worse. Tears were pouring down my face; my body's pathetic attempt to quench the flames. It wasn't working of course. The flames just kept getting stronger and stronger, melting through my very skin.

I was completely unaware of myself now. I couldn't control my body and it thrashed and rolled around like a dying fish on solid ground, desperately clinging on to life. The flames were a mere afterthought now as my body itself became the thing that burned, not just my insides. Pieces of my body began writhing and bending in ways that should not have been possible. My arms flew out from my sides like branches, my fingers stretching out like tiny twigs towards a single ray of sunshine, only to snap back and curl into hideous witch-like claws. It was like I was a puppet, all broken and mangled that a puppeteer was still trying to make dance.

Tongues of flame erupted from my back. My spine, cracking through the molten skin as the bones began to re-shape and re-configure themselves. The rest of my body soon followed, the skeletal frame shrinking and warping inside of me. I felt like I was resting on a balloon that was quickly shrinking and I had to shrink just as quickly to compensate. It was an odd sensation, to say the least, and by the time I was done and the other feelings ceased, leaving me with just the burning to contend with I was nearly unconscious.

Nearly. I still had enough strength to raise my head and stare up at Cupcake through strands of brown hair, hoping that she wouldn't blame herself if I died because of...whatever the hell was happening to me.

It took me only a second to realize. _Brown?!_

Cupcake was staring back at me, her face white as a sheet and her eyes were wider than I had ever seen them. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"Cup...cake?" I whispered, finally able to speak again. The fire was beginning to die just as quickly as it had come.

She closed her mouth, then opened it again and this time, words came out. Quiet, terrified words, but words none the less. "You're...me."

And then I blacked out.

I woke up about a week afterwards, and when I had it hadn't been a nice awakening. Of course Cupcake had been over-joyed that I was still alive, but her sister had been less than thrilled.

Apparently, while I was out Cupcake had taken the liberty of filling her older sister in on...well...everything really. About me, how I had showed up without my memories, and now about what I might be. Her sister was...a little hesitant about trusting me, which was a decision I completely respected. However, it wasn't like I could do anything to hurt her or her sister in my current condition anyway. Every single bone in my body ached, it hurt to move and according to the over-protective Cupcake I wasn't allowed to leave my make-shift bed/cot in the closet for three days after I had woken up.

I wasn't happy about it, but she was adamant on the matter and now that she had the bulky Jessira on her side, there was no way I would be able to defy her wishes. So I stayed in bed and slept for the better part of three more days. When I wasn't asleep I had Cupcake buzzing in my ears with questions. How had I done that, did I think I could do it again, and did I remember anything else from my past?

The answers to those questions were of course less than helpful. I didn't know, maybe, and no. Not the answers that she had been looking for, but she took them anyway and told me that she was sure I would remember something soon. Jessira, however, wasn't so sure.

After Cupcake had gone back to her computer to continue looking for articles on missing teens that resembled me, Jessira came over to the doorway and stood there, staring at me. I asked her what was wrong and she answered, "I'm not sure about you."

I asked her to elaborate. "Not sure about me?"

She shook her head. "No. I can't tell who you are."

I shrugged indifferently. "Not a surprise." I replied. "I don't know who I am either."

Then she said something that angered me at the time, but now I realize that it wasn't an insult. It was a hint. "I know you're a thief, and I know you're a storyteller. I just don't know which you are first." Then she turned and walked away, leaving me staring at her back in utter confusion and irritation. What was it about people in this family and being enigmatic?!

I tried to ask her about it later, once I was up and walking again but she ignored me and wouldn't talk about it again. Still, in spite of this rocky introduction I soon grew to like the surly older sister. She stayed at the house for only a week after I was allowed out of bed, but during that time she tried to help Cupcake help me in any way that she could; searching for articles, browsing news feeds and even asking people around the town if they knew me. She also stayed with me on the days when Cupcake had to go to school, talking with me. I suspected it was her way of trying to make up for hurting me, and because of that she gained my grudging respect and friendship.

I sighed, closing the book I had been 'reading' and picking up another. It felt like such a long time ago... though in reality it had only been about three months. Three long...stressful months.

Normally I could tell what kind of book they were by the binding and by their weight before I even looked inside the book itself. This wasn't one I had held before. Its cover was made from battered black leather stitched to cardboard. It was faded so badly in certain spots that he appeared almost grey and when I turned it over in my hands I found the cover wasn't even fully bound. The tightly-packed, yellow pages were held together by a bit of string. That was all.

I started scanning the first page but stopped when I realized that the tome in my hands didn't have any text inside. I flipped through another couple of pages. Nothing. This was...odd. I frowned, bringing the book's cover for close scrutiny. It didn't have a title.

"What is up with the weird books in this place?" I wondered aloud, running a hand over the unadorned book. It looked like a plain old book- heavy emphasis on _old_. Then I realized what I had said and almost Gibbs'd myself. _Duh_. This was a spirit's library, after all. And I had seen much weirder books than this blank one, among them a book which had screamed at me and one that had tried to eat me. Those I had quickly put back.

I was about to put the book back and move on to the next one in the stack, but before my hand slipped from the cover I felt a slight tingling in my fingertips. I snatched my hand back but the book didn't fall. It remained floating there, tilted slightly up in my direction for a few seconds. Then it rose up the rest of the way and floated slowly, carefully, over to me and landed in my lap. The cover opened slowly, revealing ancient pages newly covered in black ink.

_In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and a dirty, oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing to sit on or to eat; it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort._

I knew which story this was from the first sentence, reading through the first few sentences with a smile on my lips, recalling some of the good memories I had with the girl. Some of my favorites were reading her to sleep, and one of my absolute favorites was this book. The Hobbit. Cupcake's alltime favorite. I had read it to her only a week ago at her request as a bedtime story. The story was actually a good one we both enjoyed it thoroughly.

"_It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with paneled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs and and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats- Hobbits were very fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the Hill- the Hill, as all people from many miles round call it- and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on the other. No going upstairs for the Hobbit_-"

Suddenly, my fingertips started to tingle. I broke off my recital of the paragraph, staring as the book's pages started to eminate a slightly eery glow. As if the lack of text hadn't been a big enough hint to leave the bloody thing alone, this certainly made the point hit home. My mind told me to throw the book away but my hands could not move. It was as if they were stuck to the cover like glue.

"Pitch! Pitch, help!" I yelled, thrashing about in the chair as if the book were shocking me. I expected him to come running through the doors at brakeneck speed but nothing appeared. _Damn, _I thought as the glowing grew brighter. _Just when I need him most!_

The book started glowing so brightly that I had to shut my eyes. I felt a tugging on my arms, as if someone was pulling me forward into the book. I tried to scream but the noise vanished, sucked away by the luminescent pages. A loud humming filled my ears, echoing down into my heart as a gentle thrumming. What in the name of Hades was happening?! It felt as if I was floating. I couldn't even feel the chair beneath me or the book in my hands.

And then, I dropped like a ton of bricks. Landing on what felt like soft green grass, the impact knocked the wind out of me and I took a few seconds to recover before sitting up and looking around. The world around me had changed drastically. I wasn't inside any more, for one thing. The sun shone brightly down on my face, illuminating a beautiful green country-side, covered in rolling hills and patches of flowers as far as the eye could see. Down below me, a winding river rolled through the sandy riverbank and beyond that a lush, green forest lay. I squinted, wondering if I was seeing things. Was that a row of tiny houses?

"Hey, you! Get outta my garden!"

Blinking blearily, I turned around to see a little man about three feet tall with straw-colored hair, glaring at me peevishly. He wore short orange pants, a green vest with bright golden buttons over a white shirt which looked like it had seen better days, a floppy sun-hat which was more patches than hat and- I frowned, looking at his feet. They were bare and hairier than any other feet I had ever seen! He held a small rake in his hands and brandished it at me.

"I'm warning you lass, you get outta my garden right now or I'm gonna give you what-for!" He told me, baring sharp little teeth.

I nodded. "Alright, alright," I told him, standing and stepping gingerly out of the flower patch. "I'm sorry."

He gave me a curt nod and moved past me to tend to his flowers. I watched him, utterly bewildered. Where the hell was I?!

"Um...excuse me," I said hesitantly, tapping the little man on the shoulder.

He grunted something that sounded like a yes.

"Can you tell me where I am?"

At that he actually straightened up and turned to face me. "Why, you're in Bree, of course." He said that as if I should know what or where Bree was.

I'll admit, I really should've picked it up by now. But my mind was still slightly foggy from the trip over here and as such I didn't take into account what I had been doing before coming here. I frowned. "And...where's Bree?"

He gave me one of those adult-y looks. Like, really? You don't know that? Wow. "One of the outlying villages in the Shire," he told me patiently. "Near Hobbiton."

XXXXXXXXXX

He didn't dare come out from behind the bookshelves until he was sure she had gone. "Well then," he murmured, crossing the room to regard the emoty chair. Even the book hadn't been left behind. Which was good. She would need the book to get out again. "That was interesting." He had never seen one first-hand before, only read about them, but he had to admit the accounts didn't do nearly enough justice. The light alone... Beautiful.

The young man smiled, lifting the sky-blue hood back over his face and heading for the door. That was step two complete. She was well on her way. Now all he had to do was make sure she didn't go running to her new friend and keep this secret to herself. Which would be hard, as she was getting closer and closer to him with each passing day. The only other concern was the girl- which was barely a concern at all. Humans were so gullible, after all.

A wane smile creased his olive lips as he opened the library door. It was a good thing he had cast a sound-proofing ward over the door, otherwise that scream of hers might've ruined everything. He glanced over his shoulder, black hair whirling like leaves in the wind. A familiar brilliance was already starting to shimmer back to life in the chair. She was coming back. And after barely a few minutes too! Excellent.

"I can't wait to see what she does next." He murmured, eyes lingering for only a second more on the chair with the girl in it before he turned and fled before somebody saw him. That wouldn't do. In fact, he was lucky that the owner of these caves hadn't already caught him on these little excursions. Normally he preferred to stay behind the action, watch from the sidelines. Things were much more fun that way, but this time he needed to take part. He had been on the side-lines too long in this story. It was risky, coming out of his tower to interact with people, but it would all work out in the end.

He hoped.


	16. A Violet Dip In The Drink

**Hola miz amigos! I know it's been a while but I eez back! And with another awesome chapter to boot! Hope you guys like it!**

* * *

To say that Pitch Black was happier than he had ever been…might be a little bit of an understatement. He was jubilant, triumphant, delighted, utterly ecstatic and a thousand other words besides because he had finally done the impossible.

He was becoming friends with Meggie.

The invitation to live here had been the first step. He had nearly jumped for joy when she accepted- OK, scratch that, he had jumped for joy and now that she was staying here, he was determined to make the caves as accommodating as possible. And that meant fixing up that drafty hole in the wall he had given her as a room.

His initial idea had been to ask her to accompany him out on one of his rounds and take her to a department store as a surprise at the end of the night. He reasoned it would kill two birds with one stone; he'd been meaning to take her out and show her what he did every night, but somehow he just never found the time. What with work, keeping up with her, keeping his caves in order, making regular trips to visit the Guardians so that they wouldn't come nosing around and find her, Pitch was practically going insane trying to keep up.

Then came the little snafu which brought his elaborate plan crashing down. Meggie decided to take matters into her own hands and vacate her room, in favor of the much warmer library. This hadn't been a wholly bad thing, as it gave Pitch the idea to surprise her with it and to prove that he wasn't as cold and unsympathetic as she probably thought he was.

The plan had been an instant success and Meggie had- pardon the pun, warmed up to him quite a bit afterwards. They spent much more time together now, having breakfast, talking about various aspects of her spiritdom. Meggie was a little less than forthcoming about herself than Pitch might've wanted, but he quickly learned that when the girl didn't want to tell him something, it wasn't going to happen.

Of course, no transition is without its little snags. Pitch had learned quite early on that Meggie didn't like to be prodded when it came to answering question and yet, for some reason he still found himself asking, pleading really, for her to tell him more and more about herself. Then came the little blowout over dinner which had resulted in her stomping off to her room. Pitch hadn't been too worried. Compared to her usual excursions, this wasn't all that bad. She was still in the caves, for goodness' sake. What trouble could she get into?

Meggie was always out running around- _flying_, really, off to goodness knows' where. Any time, day or night. Whenever the fancy struck her. And normally she would come home with either a tangled mess of hair, bruises on her arms and legs or a few spare cuts. He had questioned her about these thoroughly but she would only say that she liked exploring and that sometimes you got into rough spots when you went into unfamiliar territory.

This had obviously raised a few red flags with him and he had requested, politely, that she stay in the caves long enough for the cuts to heal. When she went out again, he followed her and saw that she was indeed just exploring the surrounding area of New York. The cuts and bruises were from flying into buildings or, in most cases, trees. After two nights of following her, Pitch had decided that she was fairly safe on her own and fell back to his normal duties. He still kept a close watch on her, but he let her go where she pleased. If only because he knew he couldn't very well stop her without losing the small fragment of trust they had managed to forge through mutual dislike of certain television programs.

That's not to say he didn't worry about her. She was his charge, of course he worried. It was all he could do to keep his heart from racing every time she said, "I'm going out." He thought it was the residual paternal instinct that came with his memories being returned and having Jack as his grandson, but he couldn't be sure. In any case, he worried about her a lot. He worried that she might run into spirits which were much nastier than she was, he worried that she might get lost on one of those strange nightly flights she tended to take, and most of all he worried that her big mouth would land her into a heap of trouble with other spirits. That was the big one. She was a smart girl but she had a sarcastic streak that would get her clobbered if she spoke to the wrong person.

"Which is why I need to start introducing her to the other spirits," Pitch told himself sternly as he flipped through the shape-shifter book which she had graciously allowed him to borrow. He was sitting on the bed in his master bedroom. It was late, but he could not go to sleep yet. He had yet to complete his rounds.

It was true, and he had been meaning to do that for some time as well but he had been putting it off because he wasn't sure if she was ready. That and the fact that there weren't many spirits out there who he knew he could trust to not attack him on sight. The Guardians were out of the question- for the moment. As were Manny and Nightlight. Seraphina might be possible, if she was in a good mood.

_Maybe I should talk to some of the other spirits. _He mused. _Some of the ones who know I'm good now. The leprechaun, maybe or Father Time?_

He had been wrestling with this for some time now and, while he didn't want to bombard her, he knew that she would have to face the spirit world eventually. It was something all spirits had to do, after a while. Through either confrontation, observation, mutual contact or just bad luck. However it happened, every spirit eventually met with the rest of the inhabitants of the spirit world.

_Well, _he reflected with a small chuckle as he turned the page. _Maybe it would be better if she discovered this part of spiritdom on her own. But with me there to guide her and make sure she doesn't get herself into trouble. Like a shadow. Like her own personal Guardian._

That might not be such a bad idea and Pitch resolved to use it some time in the future, the next time she came out of her room.

_If she ever does come out of her room, _Pitch thought with a smirk.

It was true. Meggie was currently downstairs, in her room reading. She had been doing an awful lot of that lately since the night of their little spat, for various reasons. This time her seclusion was probably due to their confrontation the other day when he had asked her to stop bringing animals into the caves.

"We've got enough pests in here without you adding more," he told her sternly after discovering her attempting to smuggle a porcupine under her shirt.

Meggie had pouted and protested a little more vehemently than was strictly necessary, given the circumstances, but he was firm on the matter. No animals inside the caves, if he could help it. So, like usual, she had stomped away back to her room to sulk. After releasing the animal outside the caves, of course. But, that was one of the joys of raising a teenager, he supposed.

Pitch sighed and closed the book. No new answers there. He had been scanning the text for some new information about Meggie's spirit type but he had found nothing so far. At least, nothing he hadn't already read before. According to her, Meggie had been having the same problem which was part of the reason why she so readily let him borrow it. He and Meggie had read through this book, together and separately, more times than he could count. So much so that he was beginning to remember whole passages by heart.

"And that is helping no one." He stood and slid the book onto his night stand.

If he had to be honest with himself, the main purpose of reading this book was more to distract him from his conflicted thoughts about Meggie than to actually gather information. The fact that she barely left her room was another source of great worry to him. Of course, the times he did see her she appeared healthy and happy enough. They had breakfast almost every morning and even when they didn't, he could still catch the occasional glimpse of her running back and forth through the tunnels between her room, the library, and the outside. And she seemed to be fine!

Come to think of it, if anything, the girl seemed to be slimming down! Not that Pitch was the kind of man who would notice that kind of thing, but it was fairly obvious. Instead of the bulky, cumbersome teen Pitch had come to regard as her normal form, Meggie seemed to have morphed down a size or two over the last few weeks. He didn't know if it was due to her powers or just her taking advantage of his in-home gym which he had introduced her to, following her numerous complaints of not having anything to do.

"Pumping iron," he had told her from vast years of experience, "while it might give your body some physical strain and soreness for the next few weeks, will prove to be a worthy distraction. Not to mention it's very good for your health."

"I thought spirits were immortal?" She had challenged, to which he replied evenly,

"No, they are long lived. There's a difference. And the only way they stay long-lived it through taking good care of themselves. And they do that by not getting into unnecessary fights, working out, eating right, sleeping- even though they don't need either but it helps, and training an awful lot. I hope you're ready for how much work it takes to be a spirit."

She had nodded stoutly and replied that she was, and that she would do whatever it took. There was a strange glimmer in her eyes when she said that, but Pitch had attributed it to anxiousness. And he hoped she was as firmly convinced in her own abilities as he was. He really did. It would make the future all the more easier, when she would be forced to use her powers for the benefit of all humankind. Or whatever creed which became hers.

_Maybe I should take her to speak with Manny. _He contemplated. But would it be worth it? To show Meggie the face of what had cursed her to be like this? Alone, but for him and that mysterious stranger she kept visiting? Unseen until she discovered some vague attribute about herself? No, that would not do. She needed to get more used to being a spirit first before he let her speak with Manny.

It was then that Pitch made his decision. It was nearing time for him to be going out on his rounds anyway, and this time he decided that he wasn't going alone. _Someone needs to get her out of that room, _he told himself firmly as he crossed to the door of his room and opened it without a sound. _I wouldn't be a very good Guardian if I just let her stew away in there._

He made for her room and when he got there, he made sure to knock and wait for confirmation before entry. He heard a muffled, "Yeah what?" and figured it was safe to enter. And so he did, flinging the door open like a Broadway actor and whirling inside, flushed with excitement. Maybe this would give them some new solid ground to work off of in his quest to build their friendship. As soon as he saw her however, all thoughts of friendship ceased completely and were replaced with admiration.

The girl was lying on her bed, reading. No surprised there. But it was the way that she was reading which gave him pause. He drew closer a bit, frowning as his eyes traveled over the strange rigging hanging from the ceiling just above her bed. A book floated there, about a foot away from her face, suspended by ropes and pulleys and clamps. The book appeared to be alright, for which he was grateful, but as he glanced up he could see more dark holes pitting the ceiling than he was sure she had meant to drill. Meggie herself was sprawled eagle on her bed, legs extended while a cushy pillow cradled her head. Her violet hair fanned out, spider-web like over the pillow, completely submerging it in purple.

She glanced up when he opened the door, smiling. She could see he was impressed. "Like my new set-up?" She asked, turning the page with a long, silver pointer. Much like the ones adults use in primary school. "I was getting sick of sitting up and craning my neck, so I fixed this up." She waved a hand at the ropes. "Kind of a no-brainer really."

He frowned, stepping up to inspect the make-shift book harness. "How did you get all of this?" He asked her, slightly suspicious. Spirits really shouldn't steal from humans. It was bad form- even though he had nicked a fair few amount of items in his time. Among them several incredibly comfy leather chairs.

"I found it." She replied, gesturing to the door. "When I went exploring last week. There's some really gnarly caves down in deeps. Full of old bones and equipment from people who came down here to splunk."

"Spelunk." Pitch corrected her automatically. "And you mean to say that you've been stealing ropes and harnesses from the dead?" He had to admit, the girl was resourceful.

"Why not?" She asked, smirking. "They aren't gonna miss it. Oh and check this out! I found some old panels of wood and gears near the Burgess dump and guess what I made!" She was practically giddy with excitement as she bounced up and grabbed a small remote from beside her on the bedside table and pushed the button. Immediately the clamps holding the book released and the book fell into her lap. Then the ropes started retreating back into the ceiling where a little nook waited to house them. When the ropes disappeared from view, leaving a small cavernous hole a small panel of wood which he hadn't noticed before slid to cover it when that was in place, it looked as if nothing had been changed.

He whistled in admiration. "I'd better watch my step," he told her, smirking. "Or else you'll turn my caves into one gigantic booby-trap."

She shrugged. "I probably would." She admitted, not even a little ashamed by the accusation as she slipped the book back to its place on the table, setting the remote on top of it before turning back around to face him. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Pitch was still looking up at the panel of wood in admiration and it took him a second to realize he was being spoken to. He blinked, lowering his gaze. "Hm?" Then he remembered. "Oh yes." He put on his best smile and told her, "Meggie, grab a coat. We're going out."

She raised an eyebrow. "Out where? It's freezing cold outside and I would rather not have Jack Frost nipping at my nose thank you very much!"

Pitch couldn't help it. He let out an uproarious laugh, doubling over with his hands on his knees. His whole frame shook with the force of his mirth. _This must be what North feels like,_ he thought briefly before all thought was wiped away by another wave of laughter. After a few minutes of unrelenting laughter, Meggie spoke up.

"Are…you OK?" She asked uncertainly. "Do I need to call somebody?"

Which of course just made the Boogeyman laugh all the harder. He even laughed so hard he hiccuped. "Oh, I'm sure Jack wouldn't find your nose tasty at all my dear. He prefers smaller ones." He told her, still chuckling when he finally recovered from his laughing fit. He straightened up, smoothing down the front of his robes as he tried to regain some of his dignity, though he couldn't help the beaming smile on his face. "Now, I know the weather isn't the nicest but it is February. Spring is on its way and I think you need to spend some time outdoors in the fresh air, away from all this dust and darkness."

She blinked, nonplussed. "But…you're the Boogeyman." She said. "I thought you were supposed to like darkness and dust? You know, lurking under beds and all that."

Pitch rolled his eyes. "I do not like it," he corrected her gently, miffed at the assumption. "I just have to deal with it on a regular basis. There's a difference."

She shrugged. "Potato tomato. And anyway, it's dark. Where are we gonna go? The all-night movie theater?"

Pitch shook his head. "No. Though that does sound fun. No, I was thinking you might like to see a bit of what I do when I go out on my rounds. It might give you a better sense of what spirits try to be and what they stand for. Plus it will get you out of the caves for a bit. And, no offense meant my dear, but you look like you need it desperately." He reached forward and traced beneath her eyes. "Your crows feet are starting to grow feet."

She rolled her eyes and swatted his hand away. "Blah. I can't help it if the ink seeps into my pores." She told him, smirking. "It's my lifeblood."

He chuckled. "All the more reason to get you out of here and into some new places. You start living off of books and soon the books will be living off of you!" He could tell she wasn't all that into it from the dubious look on her face, so he changed tactics. "Hey, I know how you like to go exploring. I can take you across the continent in one night! Once my rounds are done, we can even skip across the water and visit South America if you like."

The second the words left his mouth he knew he had done it. Meggie's eyes lit up like torches and she smile on her face nearly stretched ear to ear. "Really?" She asked, her jaw hanging open slightly. Oh the possibilities…

Pitch nodded. "Absolutely. As soon as we finish my rounds."

Meggie bolted for her closet and snatched her cloak from the coat hook, fastening it in one deft movement before swirling around to face him. "Well? What're we waiting for let's go old man! If I stay down here any longer I'm gonna turn into you!" She leaped into the air and flew straight for the doorway. Pitch sidestepped just enough so that she could fly through safely and chuckled softly as he followed her.

"I can't wait for Jack to meet you." He murmured but she was too far down the tunnel already to hear him.

XXXXXXXX

Of course, they didn't leave immediately. There were a few preparations to be made before Meggie had her first real outing. The first of which being Abby's need for clothes better suited to traveling. Of course she complained at great length about it but Pitch didn't want her freezing so he demanded she put on something warmer than just her usual costume cloak.

"It's almost frikking march!" She whined as he handed her a pair of kidskin gloves and woolen beanie. Yet another set of items he had stolen from the local department store but she didn't need to know that. "There's no way its colder out there than it was down here before you put my fireplace in!"

"I don't want to hear it young lady," Pitch told her firmly. "You might be immortal but you don't seem to be invulnerable to the elements like the rest of us. I will not have you dying of frostbite your first night out of the state."

Grumbling, she tugged on the gloves. She absolutely refused to wear the hat though. "It ruins my hair." She told him firmly when he protested. "I have to fight like hell to keep it this tame and I'm _not _going to have another hour-long battle in the bathroom when we get back."

Pitch tried to reason with her, even going so far as to fib a little about frost spirits who liked to eat ears- which she immediately saw through, but nothing worked and so eventually he relented. "Fine," he told her reluctantly. "But at least keep your hood up."

She happily agreed. The next mission was transport. Meggie absolutely flat-out refused to shadow-travel. If they were going to do this, she told him firmly. Then they would do it her way. And that meant flying. Pitch couldn't blame her, what with her negative past experiences and all. So, after sending word to the other Nightmares and selected a suitable mount for himself- Meggie elected to use her own mode of flight, claiming that the Nightmares intensely disliked her. She was right but there was no need for her to know that -they headed off into the night. He made sure to keep a close eye on her initially, hoping to give her a bit more room to run around- or fly, as the case may be but he quickly realized that would not be possible.

As soon as they left the caves, Meggie decked out in dark leather combat boots and her cloak's hood pulled over her face to hide her excited blush; he with his usual dark aura, the girl found that she quite liked the vastness of the open sky and he lost her almost immediately. Then he would find her again in the strangest places. Then he would lose her. Then he would find her. It was like a never-ending game they played and he allowed it to go on for a little while before finally asking her to settle down. He had a job to do, after all. And he was determined to do it, even if he had to drag along a hyperactive child.

Oho, if he had known.

"Why horses?"

Pitch turned automatically to his left, even though he knew she wouldn't be there. Meggie had a bad habit of asking a question and then flitting away like a firefly before he could get his bearing to answer her. Especially tonight. "What?" He asked, scanning the surrounding sky. He couldn't find her. "Meggie where are you?"

"Here." Suddenly she popped up beside him like a jack in a box, grinning as bouncy purple hair swirled in the evening wind.

Pitch nearly had a heart attack. _Maybe if we don't find her reason for being a spirit I can employ her as my understudy, _he thought with a grudging smile as he reigned in the equally startled nightmare which he was riding. Her hood was down, he noticed, but didn't ask her to fix it. If he had that massive head of hair, he would probably let it loose whenever he could.

They were both floating several hundred feet in the air over a town called Boulder in Colorado, right beneath a gigantic building which had been an old movie theater back in its hay-day but was now being refurbished as a mini-mall for the ever-greedy throngs of teenage girls and boys. This was their sixth stop tonight- before now they had visited Wisconsin, New Jersey, West Virginia, Louisiana and even, at Meggie's request, a small gold mining camp in Alaska. Sufficed to say, the whole east coast had had their fill of evenly dispersed nightmares. And it was only six O'clock.

"Must you do that?" Pitch snapped, slightly angry with himself for being startled by a mere child.

She shrugged. "No, I guess I mustn't." Then she added with a wicked gleam in her eyes, "But it was funny!"

Pitch rolled his eyes. Maybe taking her out on his rounds wasn't such a good idea. She had already woken up two children by banging around their rooms, checking out everything like a little hyped up toddler with cabin fever. Thankfully the children had just assumed that it was part of their nightmare and ignored her. Of course she had received a good chewing out for that but it hadn't dampened her spirits. It seemed Meggie brushed off rebukes like they were merely irritating flies and simply forgot about them minutes later. Pitch didn't hold it against her though. She was young and carefree, and it was almost encouraged.

"If you say so."

Meggie nodded, her wavy violet hair dancing in the fingers of the breeze. "I do, I do sir!" She did a little flip. She was getting better and better at it. Soon she would be cartwheeling. "Now, why horses?"

"Why horses what?"

She rolled her eyes. "Why do you ride the horses? Sand-ponies, whatever they are. What made you think to make horses?"

Pitch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Meggie I've told you already once before, they are _not _sand-ponies. They are Nightmares, made from dark magic and corrupted dreamsand. Among other things. They chose their own shape when I first made them, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Horses are the only creatures with a sense of smell sophisticated enough to discern fear and that make them ideal creatures to go out and search for fear."

"Oh." With her questions answered and her mind still running at a thousand miles an hour she turned and flew off into the vast, open sky, preforming loop-de-loops and other tricks that would make Peter Pan jealous just because she didn't see anything else to do.

Pitch watched her in admiration. Time wasn't so long ago that he had done the exact same thing, relishing in his powers and using them to their fullest advantage. Yes indeed, Meggie definitely seemed to live in the moment.

As if hearing his thoughts, the girl suddenly stopped. She was floating on her head, feet kicking wildly to maintain her pose while she waved ecstatically at him. "Come on old man!" She hollered in a voice that made Pitch cringe. _She's probably alerted every spirit within a thousand mile radius as to where we are._ "Don't you have more places to go?"

Pitch rolled his eyes and spurred Noir forward. Onyx was leading up the European teams across the sea, making sure that they were preforming their jobs as he would see fit while he stayed over here in the Americas, keeping an eye on his troublesome tenant. "Indeed I do." He told her when he finally caught up with her. Bloody hell she was a bullet. "And this time, I might even let you come in the room if you _promise _not to touch anything!"

Meggie screeched to a halt in mid-air before preforming a full 180 and zooming back towards him. As she drew closer he could see her eyes were lit up like candelabrum and there was a brilliant smile on her face. "Really?" She squealed, clapping her hands together in utter glee.

He pulled in the reigns and halted his mount right in front of her, raising a warning finger. "_Only _if you promise not to touch anything." He repeated firmly. "And you are to keep absolutely silent this time, do you understand? No questions, no random thoughts blurted out loud. And _no singing!_ Got that?"

She zipped her lips and pitched the key out into the dark night. A silent promise.

He nodded. There was a little boy being tormented by images of an abusive stepfather that needed remedying a few blocks away. "Good. I'm glad we've got that settled." They headed down to the window of the child in question and Pitch dismounted smoothly form his Nightmare, asking it to keep guard outside before turning to the window itself. Meggie was floating there while he hovered on a cloud of nightmare sand. "Now I will tell you again, I don't care what you see or what you hear. You _do not _bother me when I'm working. Alright?"

She nodded silently.

He gave her a look. "Meggie..."

"Alright alright!" She said, breaking her vow of silence, folding her arms defensively over her chest. "I won't bug you. Jeez, you'd think I broke your favorite toy."

"No," Pitch replied flatly. "You just nearly threw me out a window the last time we went into a child's room."

That was technically not true. What had happened was Pitch had been doing his job and things had gotten a little difficult when the child whose dream he had been entering had tried to back out. Pitch had had to use a little more force and in so doing let a little bit of shadow energy into the room which had latched onto Meggie like a snake. Meggie had immediately tried to run and Pitch, who pulled out of the nightmare just in time to see her, vaulted across the room to stop her. As you might have guessed, this didn't work. Meggie had latched onto him, crying for him to get it off of her but his momentum had thrown them both out a window.

"_Nearly_!" She protested. "You came at me like a hurricane. We both ended up outside as I recall. And anyway _you _can fly!"

"So can you." He pointed out.

She opened her mouth to spit something back, then she realized the validity of his statement and inclined her head in an acknowledgment of a point scored. "Fair enough." She admitted.

Pitch nodded back. "Good. Glad we got that settled." He lifted a hand up to the windowsill which was down and used the tendrils of shadows to flip the lock and open it from the inside. He floated through and Abby trailed behind him. He quickly located the boy who was tossing a little in his bed and, after laying a finger in his lips to warn Meggie to be silent to which she responded with a rude gesture involving her fingers, he turned towards the child.

The nightmare was relatively unremarkable, as they went. The little boy was running from monsters with his step-dad's face. Only Pitch could see the images flickering around the orb of nightmare sand which floated above the boy's head, but he knew Meggie was smart enough to guess what he was seeing. He didn't even need to intervene on the boy's behalf. Just his prescience was enough for the fear to lessen in the boy's heart and that allowed him to summon a sword and slash off the monster's heads.

Barely five minutes later they were outside the child's room and on the roof of the neighboring building. Meggie leaned against his horse, holding the reigns while Pitch re-mounted. She had been strangely silent, looking down at the city below them. Pitch noticed.

"What's wrong?" He asked, looking down from his lofty height.

She looked up. Her eyes were glazed over, distant but when she recognized he was talking to her they cleared somewhat. "Hm? Oh, nothing." And then she turned away.

Pitch got down off of Onyx and walked over to Meggie who had drifted away from them, towards the edge of the roof. He laid a hand on her shoulder. "Is there something you need to talk to me about?" He asked kindly.

Meggie didn't pull away. That was a good sign. He waited patiently for her to speak. When she finally did, her voice was low. "You...see fears. Right?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Like, you can see the fears, like the actual cause of the fear or the fear itself?"

Pitch shrugged. "Depends. In a nightmare, all fear is available to me. I can sense it. And even out here, I can sense that you're afraid of something but I can't tell what."

She nodded. "And if you pushed? Like, if you tried to force the fear out of me so that you could-"

"That's not how it works dear," he interrupted gently. "I cannot force fear out of you." He glanced around. It wasn't that late. He could afford a few minutes. "Here, sit down and I'll explain."

They both sat down on the edge of the roof, legs swinging over the edge as they looked down on the glittering streets below. It had rained the night before and rainwater was still present in little puddles and as a sheen over the ground.

Once Meggie had hunkered down beside him, he put an arm around her. "You see Meggie, fear isn't just an emotion. It's not just a sensation. It's a living, breathing force which hungers for life force and needs to feed constantly. It attaches to people, _all_ people. There isn't a being on earth that doesn't feel fear. And there are two types of fear: The good fear, which keeps you from doing stupid things and from getting in trouble. And the bad fear, which feeds on you and keeps you from accomplishing tasks. It's a bit like a parasite in that respect. It helps you and hurts you at the same time. Do you understand?"

She nodded silently.

"Everybody is afraid," he repeated. "Wither it be trivial, little things like anxiousness about a job interview or a test. Or it might be monumental, like being too afraid of being rebuked to try to speak up after a crime has been done to you. The cause doesn't matter. But if too many people become too afraid, things that are very bad start to happen. Fear starts to spread. The bad kind of fear. In some people, fear makes them terrified, cowardly creatures. And in others it does worse. It makes them impartial to the plights of others."

Meggie nodded again. "They don't do anything."

"Yes, exactly. They don't do anything to help. And that's where I come in. I keep the levels of fear down far enough to make the world happy and safe. And I do that, I have to visit children each night and either instill fear or help them overcome it. It's my job. It wasn't always," he added. It was better to let her know about that sooner rather than later. "In the beginning, I acted more like a creature meant to instill fear than anything."

She let out a small chuckle. "You mean like the Boogeyman?"

Pitch smiled. "Yes Meggie. Exactly like the Boogeyman. That was what I was known for, for many years. The thing in the dark. The demon under the bed. But now, the children know me more as a cautionary tale. I don't hurt them. I help them and the ones that belief understand this."

"And what else?"

He shrugged. "There isn't much else to tell. I do my job and live. That's just about all I can do. And take care of you, of course."

Meggie stiffened a little. "Can you feel my fear now?" She asked, not taking any pains to show that she wasn't afraid.

Pitch thought about it. "No. I can tell by the tone of your voice that you are afraid, but I can't tell why you are afraid or what of. It doesn't work like that. I can only read into people's fear when it's so strong that I can almost taste it, or when I look into their nightmares. I used to be able to see into people's minds and discern their darkest fears, but I gave up that power long ago." He added quickly when Meggie went to pull away. "It hurt too much."

Meggie's head snapped up. Her eyes were wide and her voice was tremulous. "It...hurt?"

He nodded matter-of-factly. "Of course. Each bit of fear I sense flows into me. I can feel every ache, every twinge. And it hurts. It hurts so much sometimes that I wonder if it's all actually worth it." Pitch raised a hand to his chest, remembering the old days. Then he looked up at Meggie and there was a smile on his lips. "But then I remember how much I help other people though my suffering."

She still looked a bit alarmed. "But still, it shouldn't hurt you to help other people!"

Pitch nodded, lowering his hand. "I know, I know. And it doesn't. Not anymore at least. Not unless the fear is raw and truly painful." Then he frowned. "What's got you wo worked up about this anyway child? I can't feel any fear from you now, but just a little while ago you were terrified of something. What was it?"

Meggie hid her face, turning away and dislodging his arm from her shoulder. "Nothing."

Pitch reached out for her again. "Meggie," he had hoped they were past this. He wanted to help her, surely she knew that? But she still didn't trust him.

Evidently not, as she said, "No, it's nothing. I'm fine." And stood up. "I'm gonna head back to the caves for the night. I'm tired." Her hood was up again, shrouding her face in darkness.

Pitch opened his mouth to protest but a shrill cry from off to his left interrupted him, causing him to turn in the direction of the noise's source. What on earth was-

"Pitch!"

Pitch nearly had another heart-attack. _Bloody hell! _He thought, scanning the surrounding sky. _She sounds like she's only a few feet away from me!_ That woman has got a pair of lungs on her!

The she was, of course, his lovely girlfriend. She was probably on her nightly rounds and fate- the twat -made it so that they bumped into each other. He scanned the skies again and finally spotted her, silhouetted against the light of the moon which shone down through the clouds like a beacon. Her wings were glimmering in the shining light in such a way that she almost looked like an angel, but he knew better. There was only one angel around these parts. And a very bad-tempered angel at that.

He went to call Tooth's name but but then he remembered Meggie. _Damn! I haven't told her about her yet! __**Either **__of them!_ He turned to shoo her off- just temporarily, until Tooth had left and he could explain, but she was already gone. He did a quick double-take. Was she hiding? Probably, he decided, turning back towards Tooth and just in time. She was flying towards him, a great big smile on her lips.

"Pitch!" She cried, throwing her arms out wide and nearly knocking the wind out of him as she landed in his arms, hugging him tightly. "Oh my goodness it's been weeks! We haven't seen you in so long how are you?"

Pitch gently disentangled himself from his clingy girlfriend and held her at arms' length, smiling weakly back at her. "H-hey Tooth. Yes it has been a long time since we've seen each other. I've been...busy. Really busy." _Bloody hell I sound like an idiot,_ he berated himself, glancing around anxiously. Where the hell was she?!

Tooth frowned, looking at the way he held her. "Pitch, what's wrong? You seem...distracted by something."

_I'm distracted by the shape-shifter hiding somewhere around here watching every move I make!_ He thought. But he didn't say it aloud. "Distracted? No, no I'm fine. Just fine. Um, how're your daughters? I saw one a while back in a nasty little fix. Got its wing caught in a cat flap. I helped it," he added quickly as Tooth's face grew pale. "I got it out and make sure it could fly home before leaving." Utter nonsense. He hadn't seen a tooth fairy in at least a month.

Tooth breathed out a little sigh of relief. "Ah. Well, I'm not missing any of my girls, and none of them have complained to me about it so they must be fine. In fact, none of them mentioned seeing you. Did they give you a name?"

Pitch shook his head, a little too quickly. "No." He hoped it looked natural but she noticed. Of course she did.

"Pitch, something seems wrong." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure there isn't anything you want to tell me about?"

Pitch made sure to give a pause before nodding. "I'm fine, Tooth. Really. Just a little over-worked. I've been running around like a madman these last few days, trying to keep up with-" he stopped. Damn my rambling! He had almost given her away!

Tooth cocked her head to the side. "Trying to keep up with...?"

Pitch wildly searched for the right words, fidgeting with the hem of his robe. What was it about females that could weed the truth out of him like nothing else?! "Ah, trying...to keep up with...the new Nightmares!" Yes, that would work. Tooth knew next to nothing about Nightmares, so he could make up any story he liked! And, although he felt bad about lying to her, he would have to do it to keep Meggie safe.

Tooth frowned. "_New_ Nightmares?" She repeated, clearly puzzled.

Pitch nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, happily back in his element of manipulation. "Yes. We had a new brood of nightmares in the caves a while back to replace some of the ones I've lost. I lost a great many during the war and every so often one will get mistaken for a monster and another spirit will kill it. I have to replenish the ranks somehow don't I?" He gave her his best dazzling smile and she smiled back. O_h gods, _he hoped. _I might actually be able to get out of this hellish situation!_

Luckily for his sake, Tooth seemed to buy it. She nodded and inquired politely about how the new Nightmares were doing. He told her they were fine, a little wobbly on their feet but they would soon grow into it. It was also lucky that Tooth didn't know all the Nightmares he had were female, and as such incapable of reproducing.

They made small talk for a bit, him asking after her job and her doing the same. He told her about tonight's nightmares- obviously omitting Meggie from it all. When he was finished Tooth put a hand on the back of his neck and leaned in close, smiling sweetly.

"Well, if you're not too busy in the morning maybe you can..." she trailed a finger up the V of his robe teasingly, "stop by my place and we can have some quality relaxing time together. How does that sound?"

Pitch forced himself to remain calm, although her touch was making his heart beat like crazy. "That would be nice," he murmured, hoping against hope that she wouldn't kiss him. "But I've got other business to attend to later. Very urgent. Pressing. I'm sorry." He didn't look her in the eyes, knowing full well the disappointment that would be clearly visible in them. He was going to pay for this later, he just knew it!

Tooth frowned, pulling away from him. "But-"

"I'm sorry Tooth." He interrupted. "But it's late and I have to go. I will see you later." Pitch turned around, cheeks aflame with guilt and frustration. He was brushing his own girlfriend off, just for the sake of some child! _This kid had better be worth it, _he grumbled mentally to himself as he walked away. _Because I'm gonna be in the doghouse for weeks!_

He moved a good, healthy distance away from Tooth, pretending to be looking around for a nightmare-ridden child but in reality he was simply biding his time until she left. He could tell by the way that her shoulders slumped that she felt blown off and she had every right to be so, but it didn't make him feel any less guilty. And only when she turned her back and flew off did he feel it safe to breathe a sigh of relief.

_Gods above I thought I was going to love it for a moment there, _he thought, sweeping his hair back with a hand. It came away slick with perspiration. _Now, where is she?_

"Meggie?" He called, looking around. He tried to do it softly, so as not to alert Tooth. Hadn't she said something about going back to the caves? "Meggie? If you're there please answer-"

"I'm right _here_ Boogerman."

He spun around. She was standing not a foot away from him, hands on her hips and an unimpressed look on her face. "Bloody hell child! Do you even make a sound when you move?!" He demanded, half impressed half annoyed. That was the _second_ time tonight!

She cocked her head to the side, smirking. "I thought the all-powerful Boogeyman was supposed to do the scaring?" She asked teasingly.

Pitch almost let out a sigh of relief. Good, she seemed to be in better spirits than the last time he saw her at least. "I am," he told her tersely, reaching out for her arm and drawing her away from the light of the moon. It wouldn't do to have Tooth seeing her. Not after he had just put so much into lying to her. "But you seem to have the ability to startle even me!"

Meggie let him pull her into the shadows- not literally, or she would've hit him -and when they were safely out of the sight of the street lamps she folded her arms over her chest. "It's a gift." She replied modestly. "But I've got an even better question. Who was she?"

"Who?" Pitch tried to feign innocence but she was having none of that.

"Cut the crap old man." Meggie told him tersely. "I was hiding in a tree. I could see the whole thing, you and that weird bird-woman who was glomping you. Now, are you going to tell me who that woman was or do I have to fly after her and ask her myself?"

"Oh, _her_." Pitch rolled his eyes, trying to look disgusted. "She's just another spirit. I know almost all of them in this area. Perhaps you've heard of her. The Tooth fairy?" He raised a questioning eyebrow while trying not to smile. The old Pitch Black was still there after all. Method actor to the end.

She shook her head. "Nope. Can't say that I have."

"Well, anyway she's had a crush on me for decades and hasn't yet gotten over it." He shrugged helplessly. "I hate turning her away but the truth is I'm just not that interested."

At the Meggie raised both eyebrows. "I can see why," she said sarcastically. "You're such a catch."

He shrugged again and replied, without a hint of sarcasm, "She seems to think so."

Once she ascertained the identity of Tooth however, Meggie seemed to be willing to let the subject drop. She pulled her hood over her face and leaped into the air, floating a few inches off the ground expectantly. "Well, let's get going. We still have a couple of states to hit!"

Pitch raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted to go home?" He teased, summoning Noir to his side and clambering into her back.

Meggie shrugged. "I did, but now I don't. Is that a problem?"

He shook his head. "No no, that's fine. Dandy in fact. If you want we don't even have to visit the states. I promised you we could visit the next continent over. Why don't we do that instead?"

He couldn't see her expression she he expected it was dubious. "Really? You made such a big stink about getting your 'job' done and now you're willing to blow it off just to make me feel better? _Really?_"

Pitch smirked. "Is that a no?"

She tilted her head upwards just enough so that he could see her glimmering green eyes. They were full of mischief. "I didn't say that."

Minutes later they were heading toward the edge of the east coast. Noir had been sent off to round up any stray nightmares and cover the rest of the states. Everything was set and they were free to go exploring at their leisure, which Pitch planned to take fullest advantage of. They made it to the eastern-most tip of Rhode Island, near the town of Chatham, and were standing on the beach over-looking the Atlantic Ocean. "Alright Meggie, are you sure you want to do this?" Pitch asked. "I don't know if you've ever flown this far before, and I don't want you to-"

Meggie waved his worried away with a dismissive hand. "Oh please, I'll be fine! I've _definitely_ flown farther. Now lets go, before it gets light and you go all...Agh!" She pulled a face and raised her hands in an agonized gesture.

Pitch rolled his eyes. "I'm not a vampire Meggie. I will not burst into flames upon being exposed to sunlight."

"Will you sparkle?" She asked this with a totally straight face.

It was all he could do not to smack her upside the head. "_No_."

"OK good. Because I don't know from experience but Cup- someone told me that sparkling things are bad." She turned away from him and climbed up into the sky, hovering above the waves for only a moment before she leaned forward and shot out into open water. "Last one to England's a rotten egg!" She called over her shoulder.

"You don't even know where England is!" Pitch protested as he bolted after her. Her only response was a merry laugh which echoed across the waves like wind-chimes. _Alright then, _Pitch thought, rolling up his sleeves and putting on a burst of speed. _If it's a race you want it's a race you'll get!_

Within seconds of her feet leaving the beach their silhouettes were racing over the icy waves, propelled by sand and wind alike as they hurtled through the night sky. Meggie was clearly bound and determined to win this race- it was her stubborn streak rearing it's ugly head again. He probably would let her, but he would give it a good show first.

"You call this racing?" He asked, drawing up beside her. His body was facing upward and he reclined, folding his arms beneath his head. The picture of ease. "I've won yard dashes with stone statures that put up more of a fight than this!"

Meggie didn't even bother to retort. She simply threw back her hood and snapped her arms back to her sides, making her body much more stream-line and she shot forward like a stone from a sling. Pitch laughed, impressed.

"Fair enough child! But lets see you keep that pace up!" He told her, rising to match her pace. But Meggie didn't care. She was too drunk in the freedom of being able to fly again. And really, he didn't blame her. It was a type of freedom people rarely found. Complete and utter freedom from rules, from restraints, from light, from the very grip of gravity itself. And after several long weeks of being stuck underground in a small, cramped cave, he thought she deserved it.

They were about a quarter of a league out from shore. Far from any sight of land. Just dark sky, ripping waves and the sounds of breakers distantly crashing against rock and spray. He started to pull ahead, teasing Meggie as he did so to try to motivate her. It was slow at first, but gradually she slipped behind him.

"Come on Meggie, you can do it!" He called when he had gained at least six or seven feet on her and was forced to look back to jeer. "We can't be more than a mile out from- shore…" his voice trailed off. He had just looked back over his shoulder to see just how far behind she was. Only…she wasn't. She wasn't there.

Immediately Pitch slammed on the proverbial brakes and spun around, scanning the darkness for his charge. "MEGGIE?!" Her name ripped a hole through the silence of the air. Pitch's heart was starting to pound. "MEGGIE, ANSWER ME!" If this was one of her sick practical jokes he was going go ground her for a month! No, a bloody year! There would be no more _outings_, no more _books_, no more-

"Who cares what I take away from her?! I need to find her first! Get her back safe and sound. _Then_ I can ground her." Pitch told himself firmly, swooping low over the sea in a vain attempt to spot her. She wasn't hovering anywhere around here, her hair on the moonlight would give her away, so that meant she had to be in the water!

"MEGGIE!"

Then, like a bolt from the blue, a voice answered him. "PITCH!"

Pitch's gaze snapped in the direction of the voice and spotted her several yards away, thrashing in the open water. She was screaming her head off, evidently after just managing to come up for a breath of air. "I'm coming for you Meggie!" He called. "Just try to stay above the water!" But as the words fell from his lips he saw her violet head slip beneath the waves. "NO!" He angled his body downward and the water came rushing up to meet him, enveloping him like a cloak of inky blackness.

For all his faults, Pitch Black was actually a fairly excellent swimmer. You got plenty of practice when you lived underground with plenty of natural hot springs and pools, and he had learned some time ago how long it would take for the pressure to make his lose consciousness and at what depths he could reach. His longest count so far was twenty-three minutes eight seconds at a depth of almost a hundred feet, which would come in handy if he needed to dive for Meggie.

Pitch frantically searched the surrounding waters for a flash of purple of a dark shape looming out of the gloom. Past ten or twelve feet the moonlit waves gave way to totally impenetrable blackness. He tried to call out but the water muffled any sound. And he was running out of time. Nothing...nothing...nothing- THERE! A flash of violet!

He made for the color and found her floating like a mannequin some foolish human had tossed overboard. Her eyes were shut tight and her body was unresponsive. Not good. She couldn't have drowned, she was a spirit, but she would have to take a few days to recover from this.

_If she dies it'll all be my fault! _He berated himself, bundling her in his arms and making for the surface. _I suggested we do this race, I goaded her into moving faster and ended up nearly killing her! Again! _

His parental side told him that it wasn't his fault entirely. They had just been having fun, and there was no way he could have known she would tire out as quickly as she did. But he didn't really believe that.

They broke the surface and, even though he didn't need to breathe Pitch found himself taking in great whooping breaths of air. It tasted cold and hard against his lips and he spat out some seawater before turning his attention to Meggie.

"Meggie! Meggie!" He shook her, trying to get some kind of reaction but she lay as dead as a door nail in his arms. I can't do anything for her here, he thought, sending out a telepathic call for his Nightmares to come pick them up. He needed to get her out of his water, now. Before there was any lasting damage to her body and magic.

The Nightmares took their sweet time getting there and when they showed up Pitch loaded Meggie onto one of their backs, making her as comfortable as he could before climbing onto his own and leading them all through the nearest shadow, heading for home. He knew Meggie didn't like shadow-travel, but this was an emergency after all. He contemplated calling one of the water sprites to come take a look at her, maybe help purge the water from her system, but then decided against it. It wouldn't do to have more of the spirit world learn about her.

"Don't worry Meggie, I'll get you home and you'll be fine." He promised. "Everything will be just fine."

And everything was. Partially.

When they reached home, Meggie was still as cold and clammy as she had been when he had first pulled her out of the water. Ignoring how angry she would be at him when she found out later he pulled off her wet clothes and dressed her in warm, fluffy pajamas. And even then she continued to shiver and show no signs of life. Drastic action was called for, in the form of heaps and heaps of electric blankets and heating pads.

It took a while- three days to be precise, but eventually Meggie came back to him. Only, it wasn't in the way he would've hoped.

XXXXXXXXXX

Pitch Black woke to the sound of screaming.

Now, if he were the same spirit he had been only three centuries ago, he would love to wake up to such a pure, delightful sound waking him up. It would be like a choir of angels serenading him from the warm world of the sleeping and back into the cold, relentless world of reality.

But he wasn't that person anymore.

No, he was a loving, caring adoptive father and half of a devoted couple. He was no longer the monster that lurked in the night, happily lapping up the fear of the helpless humans and turning everything black and dead. And because of this, when he heard that scream pierce his murky dreaming state of consciousness, he instantly snapped into the real world and jack-knifed out of his bed, twisting the sheets into a tangled mess.

Pitch didn't even bother to put on is robe as he stumbled away from his bed, dragging the sheets behind him. He kicked at them angrily and, when they came away from his legs with a rip, he immediately bolted for the door and then down the call.

The screams were getting louder and louder with each step he took and Pitch could hear someone begging, _pleading_, to be left alone. _Meggie_, he thought, racing to her room. _She's awake! Or some of the unruly nightmares must've broken free and used my being asleep to ambush her! It bloody __**figures**__. I go to sleep for a few minutes after days of being awake and this happens! _

Poor Meggie had been having bad dreams ever since they got back from her terrifying little dip in the drink and every other time this had happened he had been there to keep them off her. But not this time. This time she was raw, exposed. Like a nerve.

_They'd better pray they haven't done anything to her,_ he thought angrily as he skidded to a halt outside her room and raised a foot to deliver mighty blow to the blackwood door. What he failed to notice before he reduced the rather expensive door to matchwood, however, was that it was unlocked and unbarricaded. But he didn't care.

The door splintered easily and swung open inward. He charged in, his eclipse eyes bright with anger, ready to lay waste to whatever foolish creature had dared harm her. But what he saw on the floor before him drove all other thoughts out of his mind.

There was no Nightmare. Just Meggie, laying flat on her back, arms and legs outstretched in what is commonly referred to as the eagle's pose, screaming her head off. Blankets were strewn all over the floor, tangled in her legs and hanging off the edge of the bed like detached limbs. Her eyes were wide with fear and her hair lay like a thick carpet beneath her head, damp and stringy with sweat. The girl practically radiated fear and Pitch dropped to his knees beside her, said her name and shook her shoulders, but to no avail.

"Meggie!" He shouted again, shaking her and shaking her, trying to get her to snap out of it.

Pitch, who used to love nothing more than the sound of a child's scream, felt horrified at the sight before him. That his element- an element he had sworn to use to the best of his abilities for the forces of good would take such joy in hurting a helpless girl. It sickened him.

"Meggie," he said, shaking her arms again. "Meggie, wake up. It's only nightmares. Bad dreams. You're alright."

Meggie began to cry. Great wet tears rolled down her face and she could barely speak through the sobbing. "I didn't do it on purpose!" She cried, as if trying to convince herself. "Please, I'm sorry!"

"I'm not going to hurt you Meggie," Pitch said gently, pulling her close to him and rocking her gently, like a little baby. He could tell that her energies were all but spent. The thrashing and screaming, that had been nothing but adrenaline and the fit was almost over now. "Just try to come back to me. Try to wake up."

It took another few minutes and a lot more rocking, but soon Meggie came back to him. First the tears slowed, then she blinked open her eyes and the relief to be free from that awful nightmare was so great that she flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly, sobbing into the shoulder of his robe. Very uncharacteristic for her. But, then again she was dealing with three days of trauma. "I was so scared," she wept. "So scared."

"I know," he told her. What she must've been going through... "I know." He continued to rock her back and forth, back and forth like she was on a ship at sea. He knew from experience that this was the easiest way to sooth any form of fussy child. "It's alright, it's OK," he whispered to her soothingly.

It took even more time for her to let go of him than it had for her to stop crying, but when she did she looked up at him, her eyes were so wide and full of pain that Pitch felt his heart leap into his throat. She looked so defenseless and weak, the complete opposite of what she was.

"Thank you." She said, but she said it in a small voice more suited for a mouse.

"It's alright," Pitch said again, reaching up and stroking her hair. "What do you remember?"

"About what?"

"Any of the last few days."

She shrugged. "Not much." She replied. "I remember the race. The wind at my back and the night sky. Then all I felt was Cold. Dark. The water, holding me like I was paralyzed. And then...warmth again. Like someone had melted all the ice around me and brought me back to life."

"That would be the heating pads." Pitch explained, directing her attention to the electrical pad lying on the ground not far from them. "I used them to bring you back. Spirits can't drown, as I'm sure I've told you, but they can suffer long-term effects to their magic which makes them weaker. A lot weaker. And since you're such a young spirit I figured it would be better safe than sorry. Can you remember anything about the bad dreams you had?"

She shook her head. "I... can't. I'm sorry. I never remember them."

He nodded gently. "And that's alright. Sometimes you're not supposed to remember your bad dreams. That's what makes them so powerful. They help because they give you no other choice. You either wake up and face the day or you remain in the dark. You chose to wake up. And that's very brave. Sometimes you might feel like it's not worth it to wake up but I assure you, it is."

She nodded and whispered a thank you.

Pitch smiled and patted her on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get you into bed." he said, helping her rise and allowing her to brace herself on him. He got her into her bed and then gently tucked her in, pulling the blankets up to her chin like he'd done his own younger daughter. "Are you going to be alright?" He asked her, putting a hand on her forehead.

"I think so," She said, nodding hesitantly. "I'm just tired Pitch." Then she turned her head and he allowed his hand to slowly slip away from her forehead and down to her cheek. She leaned in and gave him a smile, then she closed her eyes.

"Alright then child," Pitch said gently. "I'll leave you to rest. Call me if you need anything." He stayed there for a minute, unable to force himself to leave her side, then he stood and began to walk away. But just as he reached the door he heard a small voice behind him call his name.

He turned around and was back at her side within an instant. "What is it Meggie?"

Her eyes were open again, but it seemed like she was fighting sleep off. "Can you- I mean will you-"

Pitch smiled and squeezed her hand gently. "Tell me," he prompted gently.

She seemed really nervous and whatever she was about to ask must be taking a lot of effort to say. She took a deep breath, steeled herself and asked, in a hopeful tone that nearly broke his heart, "Will you tell me a story?"

Pitch froze on the spot, but only for a split second. He didn't know what to say! He was rubbish with story-telling! She was the one who liked books and stories, not him. Maybe he could get Sandy to come down here and tell her a story instead. He was good with this kind of thing, wasn't he? But no, that would involve having him here which would mean he knew about Meggie. And while the little man could undoubtedly keep a secret, it still wasn't worth it to divulge her presence.

And so, putting on his kindest face, Pitch simply nodded and sat back down on the bed. "Of course Meggie. What kind of story would you like?"

Meggie looked so surprised that against his better judgment, he laughed at her and immediately realized it was a big mistake. Meggie's cheeks flushed red and she turned away, hiding her face against the blankets.

Pitch's laughter died on his lips. "Oh Meggie I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to make fun of you." He laid a hand on her shoulder. "I would love to tell you a story. Here, I'll go search through my library for something suitable."

He made to stand but before he could get more than off the bed her hand wrapped around his wrist with a startled, "No!"

Pitch jumped. "Meggie what's wrong?"

Her eyes were wide again, terrified. Something had spooked her, there was no doubt. But, in typical Meggie style, she remained stoic and took a few deep breaths to calm herself before replying. "I...I don't want you to leave." She told him, smiling weakly. "I'm sorry for over-reacting but I just can't..." she trailed off, looking up at his hopefully. "Please?"

He understood completely. "Of course." Pitch patted her hand gently and sat back down. "Although I must warn you I am rubbish at telling stories. But I will try."

She nodded to her shelf. "There's a few books there."

He nodded and rose. She held onto his hand but only for a few seconds. Then she let go and he made his way over to the bookshelf to search for something that might lull the child back to sleep. There were only a few books there, and all of them looked new. His hand slid over the bindings, trying to discern which might be the best tale to choose. Something he himself hadn't read before? That might be a gamble. Neither of them might like it. But something old might lull her to sleep a little too fast and neither of them would be able to enjoy the story.

Eventually, he decided to let her choose.

"Why don't you pick a book?" He asked, gesturing to her shelf. "I don't really know much about the current literary standing. So maybe it's better that way."

She sat up, peering at the shelf. "My eyesight's shit," she admitted. "I can't really make out more than the color of the covers."

Pitch made a mental note to steal her a pair of glasses as he picked up the books and crossed the room, laying them on top of the covers. "There you go. Now you can choose for yourself."

Meggie folded her arms and contemplated the books for a while before choosing a small, black volume with slightly loose stitching on the cover. "I've read it before," she said when he picked it up and studied its title page. "It's a good story."

He read the title skeptically. "Alice Through The Needle's Eye?"

She gave him a funny look, then shrugged. "Like I said, it's a good story."

Pitch shrugged and opened the book to the first page and began to read. "Even if Alice didn't know for certain how long she had been trying to thread she needle, she couldn't help but notice that the sand in the hourglass which stood on the chimney-piece was slipping away at an alarming rate. 'If I don't succeed very soon,' she thought. 'Poor Dinah's jacket won't be 'till next winter but one!'" He paused. "You _really_ want me to read this?"

Meggie nodded. She had that little smile on her lips again. One that he had come to be wary of. "I like stories that suck you in." She replied loftily, shrugging. "Ones that make you think you're part of that word. This is one of those stories."

Pitch shrugged again, not sure how to respond to that and instead continued reading. They read and read throughout the night. Tales of Siamese cats and talking cutlery; of magic and rhyme and mysterious happenings. And Meggie barely lasted a few chapters.

By the tenth chapter she was out like a light. Pitch slipped the book back among its fellows, tucked the covers back up under her chin so that she would stay warm and, after making sure she was perfectly alright, headed out to set a watch and do his rounds. All was quiet and peaceful in the room, and the book that would change a young girl's life rested innocently in its cradle.


	17. Necessary Roughness

**Heyo guys! New chapter, here we come! Hope you guys enjoy it! As always, lots of love for my friends and reviewers!**

* * *

As soon as Pitch left my room I cracked open one eye and lifted my head up. The door remained shut. I waited for a few minutes just to make sure he was truly gone and not just lingering outside the door, and when I was sure I sat up with a yawn. "Well, that was fun." I said, speaking softly to myself. "He's got a pretty good story-telling voice, for a guy. I've gotta remember to tell him that later." Then my attention turned to the reason I was still awake.

I glared at the black book sitting innocently on the shelf where Pitch lad left it. "I've never met a bipolar book before," I told it tersely.

The book didn't reply.

Pulling back the tightly tucked covers, I swung my legs off the side of the bed and got up, took the book from its cradle and opened it. The blank pages had returned.

I scoffed. "Bipolar _and_ shy. _Where_ did he pick you up I wonder? The library of Alexweirdia?"

The book still didn't reply. And, to be honest, I was pretty happy about that. This particular tome had divulged enough secrets in the past few weeks- among them teleportation or multidimensional transportation, I wasn't sure which yet; the creation of pocket dimensions and the ability to re-write its pages into any story. I really didn't want communication and consciousness to be added to its list of qualities.

I flipped through the pages idly for a few minutes, feeling the luxury of the thick pages as they slid over my fingertips. "The Hobbit." I whispered and the book started glowing as the ink began to flow over the pages and assimilate into familiar sentences. Same story, same characters. Nothing new. No mention of a strange purple-haired intruder. Not that I expected there to be, as I had already tried this over a dozen times before. And ever so the book remained the same.

I read through the first page, tracing the letters with my eyes, trying to unlock some assemblence of understanding but I found none. I slipped it back onto the shelf and retired back to my bed. Resting my head against the pillow and staring up at the ceiling, I sighed. "There has _got_ to be an answer for this!" I grumbled, folding my arms underneath my head. "Why didn't you work for him? And why won't you work for me now?!"

I half expected the voice in my head to pipe up with some sarcastic response but all was silent. I sighed. All these weeks of work and what did I have to show for it? Nothing. Not even a measly semblance of an answer.

_Well, _I reflected._ That's not strictly true is it?_

It wasn't. And I would be lying to myself if I said it was.

Since my little excursion into the world of the Hobbit, things in my life had taken a turn for the adventurous. Almost immediately after hearing the name Hobbiton I was privy to a flash of blinding light in the same magnitude and blinding viscosity of the one which had brought me there and, when the spots had cleared from my vision, I found myself sitting in my chair in the library once again. Naturally I was shocked and surprised. I dropped the book and didn't go near it for several minutes, but once I finally got up the nerve I discovered that it was completely lifeless once more.

My first instinct was to run for Pitch and tell him about the book but something told me _no, wait. _It was probably the little voice in my head. I listened. And, for the next few weeks I holed myself up in my room, pouring over the book, trying to re-create the conditions for my trip. And once or twice I even succeeded, but I didn't stay in the world for more than a few seconds before I was whisked back to my dark little room. But I was not deterred. I vowed I would master this strange ability if it took me a million years. Changing my shape took its place on the back burner- for now, I promised myself, and I immersed myself in the book, testing it, using trial and error. Tonight had been one such test.

"And you failed _miserably!_" I grumbled, shooting the book a disappointed glare. Though, in truth, I was probably yelling more at myself than the book. I was in a cranky mood. Not only had the book not yielded any useful results- "Any result is a useful result," I tried to tell myself. _Shut up,_ retorted my pessimistic side. –but I seemed to be once again in the Boogeyman's debt.

If I had to make a list of the things I hate most in the universe, water has got to top the list. I can drink it and I'll take a shower with it, but past that I would like to stay dry and warm thank you very much. Only, I seem to have pissed _somebody_ off- and without knowing it too; normally I like taking credit -to the extent where I'm cursed to suffer through everything I hate most in the world. The trip to the shadow-realm was pretty bad, but the dip in the drink was worse than anything else I've had to deal with thus far. Not to mention being saved by Pitch, yet again!

I sighed, reclining back and folding my arms back underneath my head, supporting my neck. "I don't think I'm ever going to understand that guy," I told the empty room. "He lies to me, then he helps me, then he lies to me some more. Then he saves my life- more times than I can count, and promises to help me."

At this point you could call me petty and I wouldn't bother correcting you. Picking him apart was a bit petty, especially since he has allowed me so much anonymity, but it's my nature to be suspicious I guess. And when he lied to me about the woman with the gossamer wings, it irked me. I knew he was lying from the moment the words left his lips, but only because he had told me the exact opposite of what he told me earlier this very month. He did have a family, or so he claimed. Quite a large one, as I recalled him saying when he was babbling to me while I was still chained up. With cousins and uncles and even a girlfriend.

"He seems almost as complicated as me! Hell he could have two relationships with _two different people_ and I wouldn't even _know_ about it!" A pause. "I wonder if his family knows?" I shook my head, letting out yet another sigh. _I can't imagine what goes on in that guy's head._ I sat bolt-upright. _Or maybe I can!_

I hopped out of bed and stood in the center of the room, arms snapped tightly against my sides. My eyes closed and I pictured Pitch as clearly as I could; spiky hair, grimy teeth, eclipse-colored eyes and all. A brief flash of spasm pain racked my system but I willed myself to ignore it. "Come on," I urged. Come on, you can do it!"

I hadn't paid much attention to it before now- what with all my Changes being too painful to really remember afterward and myself usually being in a stressful situation when it was needed, but it seemed logical. To think that if I took his form, I would be able to see into his thoughts and possibly even his memories.

Logical, not practical.

Once again I failed miserably.

"Damn." I grumbles in his voice, flopping down on the bed and at the same time shedding his form like a second skin. "I thought for sure…maybe I'm not strong enough." Or maybe it just wasn't part of my abilities to begin with. I would never really know for sure.

My energies all but spent, I decided that a nap sounded like a pretty fair idea. Plus Pitch would undoubtedly be checking up on me and if I wasn't asleep he might think it was necessary to put me to sleep. Temporarily, of course. Nightmares galore awaited me but thankfully I was able to keep quiet enough so that he didn't come in to check on me again until morning.

Six A.M found me sitting cross-legged on my bed, writing in my diary, filling it with the events of the last few days. The dip in the drink, my lack of success with my research, and- much as I hated to pen the words, my half-fake breakdown the previous night.

Meggie's Journal entry 55

_It was cold and dark. Those are the only two words I can use to describe the water rushing all around me. I felt like a stone shot from a sling. One second I was flying over the waves, the next I was plummeting like a stone through the waves. I still don't know for sure how it happened. I guess I just wore myself out with all the flying and I didn't realize it until we were over open ocean. I guess I owe Pitch my life yet again. Go figure. The way this keeps up, I'll be over a thousand years old before I finally pay him back._

_But he did safe me. One second I felt the cold water pushing against my body, enveloping me like an icy jacket as I struggled to push myself to the surface, the next I felt his arms around me, holding me. I will never fly over open ocean again, of that you can be sure. _

_Recovery was a doozy. A few days of warmth and sleep and I'm back on my feet. The first few days were relatively nightmare free, but the last day hit me like a semi-truck. Pitch came in, the picture of a concerned parent and I actually got him to read to me from the book, testing if he could do it took and if it was the book's power, not mine._

_Don't get me wrong, the nightmare was real. Every word I told him was true. I __**do**__ keep seeing faces but it's better for me to just ignore them. I bounced back a lot quicker than he could tell and when I realized what I was doing, the manipulative side took over. To say I don't know what I was thinking would have to be a lie. I knew exactly what I was thinking: it's now or never. I chose now and the book didn't do a damn thing. He didn't vanish into the book like I did. Nothing happened. Another failure._

_Alright alright, I remember. Every result is useful for future testing. Blah blah blah I'm not a scientist! Why is it so hard to figure this powers crud out?!_

_I'm thinking about taking a stroll over to Cupcake's tonight. I haven't told her about the book yet but maybe she'll be able to clue me in on some theories. She's a smart girl- smarter than me, at any rate. I know she's pretty much given up trying to find out who I am but that doesn't really bother me anymore. If there's one true thing Pitch said, it's that I can make my own family. I don't need memories. I can make my own. And who knows, maybe it's a good thing I've forgotten them. Maybe I wasn't supposed to remember._

I stopped writing to rotate my hand. "I'm gonna get carpel tunnel if I keep speed-writing." I murmured.

Without warming, the door opened and Pitch waltzed in, carrying a plate of pancakes stacked high enough to reach his chin and a veritable sea of syrup, topped with a sunrise of butter. "Oh good, you're awake!" He said, closing the door a bit with his foot as he balanced the massive tray. "I thought you might like some breakfast."

I raised an eyebrow. "_Some_ breakfast? Pitch's that's an entire buffet line. Don't tell me you've got a little mini-waiter tucked away somewhere in that robe of yours too?"

Pitch laughed. I had missed that, in a weird way. "She speaks!" He said dryly as he set the tray down on my bedside table and came around the other way to sit at the foot of my bed. "And no, no waiter. Just me. But I think I'm well enough company, don't you?" There was a beaming smile on his face and I leaned back a little, slightly wary.

"You seem…awfully chipper today Pitch." I commented, looking from the plate of pancakes to his gleaming smile. "Something happen? Did you win the lottery?"

Pitch shook his head. "No, though what I did do is almost as good." He reached into the veritably endless folds of his robes and drew out a book. "I found another book on Changelings." He proclaimed proudly, presenting the tome to me.

My eyes widened. "Really? _Another _one?" It looked even bigger than the last! He offered the book to me and I took it, weighing the book in my hand. It felt heavy. Very heavy. The cover was bound in red fabric and the name _Spirits of Solitude_ was emblazoned in the center. My hand lingered over the cover and I spoke the name in hushed tones. "Spirits of Solitude. Why is it called that?"

Pitch shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't opened it yet. I decided to wait until you saw it first. Though it might have something to do with what we read in Shapeshifters. You know," he added when I gave him a puzzled look. "The bit about Changelings often living by themselves. In _solitude_."

I nodded, remembering all too well. "Right, that makes sense. But where did you get it?"

His face almost glowed with pride. "Well, I know you've been spending an awful lot of time in here, looking at Shapeshifters, and I know that there's nothing in that book that we haven't read a thousand times before. I figured it was high time to find some new reading material, so I hit up a few old friends and asked around. One of them came through and brought me this," he nodded at the book. "Said it had been in his library for a long time and that he never used it, so we can have it permanently! Isn't that great?"

I nodded. And it was. In fact it was more than great! This would give me something else to focus on while I pondered the mysteries of the book. It wasn't good for me to linger on one set of questions for too long, as I had learned from previous experience. "Awesome."

He nodded back, looking like a kid at Christmas. "Yes indeed. When you're feeling better, I was hoping we could go over this book together and...possibly start that training I promised you?"

I resisted the urge to eye-roll. He sounded so hopeful. "Jeez Pitch, I nearly drown and you want to take me to the dojo?" I made sure to make the mockery clear in my tone but he still seemed a little hurt by the suggestion. Maybe he thought I was mocking his caring about the safety of my well-being I don't know.

"If you're not feeling up to it I can wait until you're feeling better," he said, a little reproachfully. "We don't have to start working on your training right now-"

"No," I interrupted, raising a hand. He flinched like a rebuked puppy and I realized that had come out a bit harsher than I meant to, so I switched my tone to one slightly more gentle. "I mean, I would love to work on training and learning more about my powers. Just...not right now." I faked a grimace of pain and started rubbing my shoulder. "To be honest I'm... still kinda recovering from the dip in the drink."

He nodded. "I completely understand." He stood and I got the feeling I was about be on the receiving end of a guilt-trip. We were both silent for a moment, Pitch looking semi-guiltily down at his hands while I just awkwardly sat there in my pj's, before he finally raised his gaze back to me. "Well, how about this?" His voice almost _screamed_ patronization. "I'll leave the book with you alright? You can take a look at it and whenever you're ready. I can fix up the gym so that we can have a place where you can practice and it'll be padded, so if the Change gets a little..." he paused and the urge to hit him slowly started creeping back into my fist. "Stronger than you can handle, you won't get hurt."

_It's like he thinks that, just because of a few minor fits I can't leave the bloody caves without getting into life-threatening danger. _I mentally grumbled, making sure to keep my face neutral. "Sounds fair enough." I agreed.

"Excellent. Then I'll leave you to rest." He laid the book down on my table and headed for the door. Pausing in the doorway, he turned around and said, raising a slender hand and pointing at my massive plate. "Better eat those before they get cold." His eyes were fairly sparkling and I wondered just what else had gotten the Boogeyman in such a good mood.

I nodded. "I will."

And then he left.

I have never eaten anything so fast in my entire lifetime. The syrup stained my teeth as I guzzled down pancake after pancake, barely stopping to breathe I was so hungry. It wasn't like I hadn't been eating these last few days- Pitch had supplied me with plenty of warm food as well as blankets, but for some reason I felt utterly famished at that particular moment. Maybe it was the thrill of having a new book.

I finished off the pancakes as quickly as I could, got dressed and packed up a small bag. I had no clue what time it was, but Pitch wouldn't be going out on his rounds in any case. Not while I was 'recovering'. Time to do some good old-fashioned sneaking. With a little help from my favorite sparkly shadow-pony of course.

_I really hate it when you call me that child, _Onyx grumbled as I poked my head through the door of my bedroom, checking if the coast was clear. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Good Godfrey Cambridge Onyx!" I hissed, swinging around to face the enormous equine who had been put on guard duty once again it seemed, by Pitch. "Don't you know how to-"

_What, knock?_ Onyx inquired, tilting her head to the side and I could practically smell the sarcasm. _What for? I'm not actually supposed to be talking to you. And you aren't supposed to be out of bed_. She added, looking down her long muzzle at me disapprovingly.

"Ha ha," I deadpanned, subtly trying to hide the backpack on my back underneath my cloak. "I'm dying of laughter."

_You didn't answer my question._

_Damn. _I put my hands up. "Alright," I admitted. "Alright, ya caught me. I was going out for the night to visit someone." Onyx let out a disbelieving whinny and I glared at her. "It's true! I can't stay cooped up here for very long- you know that. So I was gonna go visit a friend and be back by dinnertime. Pitch won't even know I'm gone!"

Onyx shook her head firmly. _Nope. Sorry kiddo, you're not going anywhere. Not while you can still barely walk. Pitch would have my hide if I let you go out, and I'm not in the mood to be crushed today._

I paced a few feet away, then back, just to show her. "See? I'm fine! I was just milking it for what it was worth so that I could get more chill time! You can see that, can't you?" I was trying to appeal to whatever humanity she had and evidently it worked. She nodded.

_I can._ She leaned forward, nickering softly. _Sometimes, I make up jobs just so that I can go outside and get away from my sisters._ She told me, as if she was divulging a great secret.

I gotta say, I was interested. Hello, blackmail opportunity! "Really?" I asked as a sudden idea sparked in my head. For all my walking, I still wasn't at a hundred percent and could use a gigantic horse to help with the traveling to Cupcake but that also meant I would have to trust her with my little secret. "Well, how about this: You can come with me to keep an eye on me, make sure I'm not getting hurt again, and in return you get a few hours off and the chance to go topside for a while."

Onyx stomped her hoof nervously. _I don't know. _She sounded hesitant. _Pitch would have my head if he found out. And how can you be sure you won't get into trouble that I can't help you out of?_

I waved a dismissive hand. "Please Onyx, this is _me_ you're talking to. I snuck around these caves for a month before Pitch found me out! I'm _sure_ I can handle going out for the night." I wished I was as confident as I made out to be.

The gigantic horse let out an exasperated sigh, then finally nodded in defeat. Alright alright, but if we get caught or something bad happens I am blaming it all on you.

I grinned. "You got it pony-girl!" I saluted smartly and spun around on my heel, heading for the exit. Onyx followed, making sure to keep her clip-clopping to the minimum, lest we be discovered.

We made it to the tunnel's opening and I shot up through the crevice, thrilled to be in the air again. "Woohoo!"

_Shush!_ Onyx admonished, aiming a light kick at my rear end which I dodged with practiced ease. _Do you want Pitch to hear you?_

I glared at her, miffed that she ruined my moment. However, I also knew she was right. "Fair enough," I grumbled, flying over to her and grabbing ahold of the reins. I swung myself up onto her back and, after situating myself in a comfortable riding posture, told her, "Alright, I'm ready."

Onyx must've taken that as her command to fly because seconds later I was clinging onto her neck for dear life as we sped across the sky. _Having fun yet child? _She asked, whinnying in delight at being among the open air.

I whimpered in response. Any movement of my head was rewarded with my hair flying back and smacking me in the face.

Onyx seems to sense that I was not sharing in her light-hearted mood and eventually did slow down to an even cantor which allowed me to raise my head and look around. My hair was a mess. I told her to stop and she did, slowing to a brusque trot before skidding to a halt between two clouds. I dropped the reins and spent a good five minutes trying to fix the rat's nest my violet hair had become before I eventually gave up and tucked it all back beneath my hood. "Don't…_ever_…do…that…again." I told the horse coldly.

She whinnied in amusement. _Why? Not your idea of fun?_

"My idea of fun is going to be kicking you in the teeth once we get to where we're going," I grumbled, taking up the reins again. "Now head south. We're way off course."

Onyx obeyed, powerful hooves dancing a merry jig across the night sky. Thankfully it was night- or at the very least early evening. Twilight, I guessed by the gentle presence of crimson splashes on the horizon while a slight golden haze rippled the treetops. Around the farther edges of the skyline little specks of clouds and mauve night sky were dotted with stars. A lovely night in early spring.

_You still haven't told me where we are going,_ Onyx pointed out testily after a few minutes silence.

I adjusted our course slightly with a gentle nudge on the reins. "I told you, to a friend of mine's. I have a few questions for her and something to show her."

_The book?_

I nearly dropped the reins. "How do you know about that?" I demanded.

Onyx shrugged her huge shoulders, making me bounce. _I was with Pitch when he got it. I thought it was odd, Bard showing up randomly in the caves like that. Him and his dryad girlfriend hardly ever leave their own underground home, and even then Bard normally sends his smoke dragons to do his little errands._

I blinked. "Bard? Dryads? Smoke Dragons? What the hell are you talking about Onyx?"

Onyx faltered, then regained her stride. _Oh, right. I forgot you're new to the spirit world. Bard or Bardajorin, depending on how much you want to piss him off, is a very old half-dragon spirit whose job is to chronical the lives of spirits._ _Pitch was looking for some other books on shape-shifters, Bard heard about it and showed up in the caves with just such a book._

I frowned. "When did all this happen? Was I asleep?"

_Actually yes, you were. It happened last night. Don't worry, they didn't stick around. Otherwise Pitch might've let you meet them. Then again, _she reflected._ He might not have. That's one of the things he's terrified of currently._

"Say what?"

Onyx stopped._ You don't know?_

I nudged her on. "If I did, would I be asking about it?" I replied snarkily. "Now move it! We're burning moonlight! You can tell me all about this later, and mark my words I will remember this."

Onyx shrugged and continued on. _It's not that hard to understand really. Pitch is worried about you meeting other spirits because he doesn't think you're ready. It's a big step, after all, becoming integrated into the spirit realm. Once you start you can't stop._

"Thanks for the wise words Obi-wan." I told her, altogether uncomfortable with the sudden left-field turn the conversation had taken. "But I'm sure I'll be fine. Honestly, I'm not that interested in the other spirits. I just want to figure out what I am and once we've crossed that bridge, _then_ I'll worry about the other wackos in this universe."

_Have fun with that. Do we keep going this direction?_

"Yeah. Straight ahead, behind those trees. There's a house and a hopefully open window, but if it's not open no biggie. I know where she keeps the house key."

Onyx nodded and a few minutes later we were hovering outside Cupcake's window. True to my luck, it was locked. The curtains were drawn and what she could see of the room beyond through the gap in the curtains was black as the night sky above them. I reclined in the lack of saddle, arms folded over my chest and harrumphed.

"Well ain't this just peachy. The window's locked and she's not here. The one night I really truly need her and she's gone! _Figures_."

Onyx shifted. _Well alrighty then, case closed. Mystery person not at home. Back to the caves we go!_ Before I could stop her she started to turn around beneath me and was getting ready to bolt for the caves. I grabbed the reins and backed her up.

"Hold on pony-girl, we're not done here!" I snapped, spurring her onward around the other side of the house. "If I can find out where she's gone, maybe I can catch up with her."

Onyx fought my hold on the reins. _What makes you think that she's not tucked up away in bed right now?_ She challenged, swinging her huge head around to give me a dirty look that was somehow more disturbing with one eye.

I sighed. "Because Onyx. No matter what day it is or what night if she's asleep she'll always leave a nightlight on and her window open so that if I need her, I can get in. No, trust me, she's out somewhere. And I'm of a mind to find out where." With that, I hopped off of Onyx's back and headed around to the front door. It was still early enough that there were still people awake. I told Onyx to wait outside; It wouldn't do to have Cupcake's parents get the shit scared out of them by a gigantic black horse.

Getting inside was no problem. The key was still in the same place it had always been in- under the mat, tucked up on the left-hand side. A quick turn of the lock ans I was in, strolling through the open door as if I owned the place. Cupcake's mom and sister were sitting in the living room, watching something loud with hot guys in leather and motorcycles. I slipped quietly past them, making straight for Cupcake's room. When I got there I found that her clothes were in their usual closet/wardrobe- minus a few articles like PJ's and a pair of shoes, and her overnight bag was missing.

"Yup. It's official." I murmured. "Cupcake's staying the night at someone's house." Now it was up to me to find out who.

Thankfully, there was one more person in the house whom I could ask. Said person was currently drooling at a guy on the screen and as such didn't hear my slightly muffled footsteps as I snuck up behind her. Hey, don't judge me. I like scaring the crap out of people. An unfortunate side-effect of living with the Boogeyman I suppose.

To say that Jessira was startled when I creeped up behind her, put my hand over her mouth and hissed, "I...killed..._Mufasa_!" would have been a severe understatement. She jumped at least a foot off the couch and only my other hand clamped firmly on the back of her neck kept her from leaping off the couch completely and pummeling me within an inch of my life.

Her mother, on the other hand, didn't notice a thing. She was too engrossed in the T.V.

Jessira twisted her head and tried to cry out but my hand muffled any sound. I grinned. I was going to pay for this dearly later, mostly from Margaret's yelling at me but this would be worth it completely. Keeping my hand on her mouth and my other wrapped around her neck, I leaned in and whispered, "Relax, it's just me."

Jessira did relax, if only slightly. She stopped trying to fight and mumbled something from beneath my hand.

I tapped her cheek. A gentle rebuke. "Keep quiet, or do you want your mom to hear you?" I waited a few second to make sure her mother was still focused on the show. "I'm looking for Margaret. Make up an excuse and follow me into the kitchen. Try not to draw attention to yourself."

Then I let her go and high-tailed it back to the kitchen before she could object. Making my way through the meticulously clean kitchen, I perched myself on a counter top, snagged an apple from a nearby bowl and was just starting to munch on it when Jessira came stomping through the door. She glared at me, folding her masculine arms. "I suppose you think that was funny." Her voice practically screamed _we are not amused, _not to mention the expression on her face that foretold of imminent murder unless I gave a veeery good explanation.

I chuckled, swinging my legs up and down idly. "Well...yeah. Actually it was." I snickered when she growled at me. "Oh come on! You _know_ the expression on your face was priceless!"

Her expression didn't change. Dark green eyes staring unwaveringly at me like twin pools of deepest seawater, framed by choppy obsidian hair.

I sighed, hopping off the counter. "OK OK, I'm sorry." Lie. This would later become one of my most treasured memories and I would never regret this. I held out my arms. "Truce?"

Jessira sighed, knowing my antics were nothing more than juvenile means of personal entertainment and that I would never harm her or Cupcake, and accepted the hug. I swiped her wallet form her back pocket and when she pulled away I dangled it teasingly under her nose.

"You really should buy a chain for this," I told her, laughing as she snatched it back and stuffed it back into her pocket.

"I shouldn't have to, unless you're around." She replied, glowering. "Now, did you want something or did you just show up to pester me?"

Self-consciously I glanced at the open window to my left. It was getting late. "Actually yes. Margaret isn't in her room. I'm guessing she's at a friend's house?"

Jess nodded, looking slightly suspicious. "Yeah, it's a sleepover. She's been planning this for weeks."

"Where?"

"A kid named Jamie's house." She squinted at me. "Why? What do you need her for?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Found out some new stuff. Wanted her opinion. Just trivial stuff. Nothing to be too concerned about."

Thankfully she seemed to buy it. Jess nodded. "Cool. The house she's staying at is by the old lake. The two-story gray one with the green trimming on the roof. There might be more than a couple of kids though, so be careful none of them spot you talking to her. Or she might lose the few friends she has."

I saluted. "No need to worry about that. I'll be careful. Thanks Jess. I'll see you later." I turned for the door, pretty sure I knew which house she meant. I had flown past it a couple of times on my way across town but had never felt the urge to go inside.

Jess's voice caught me just as I was about to open the door. "Stay safe out there kid, OK? I don't want Margaret coming home with you leaning on her shoulder limping again."

I couldn't help it. "Hey Jess, come here." I crooked a finger in her direction and she obeyed, looking curious.

"What _now?_" She complained, brushing her black hair away from her face as she followed me. "Jake is about to put the smackdown on Gemma and if I miss that there will be hell to pay! This isn't gonna be on Netflix for weeks I'll have you know!"

Smiling, I crossed the hall and laid a hand on the doorknob. "Trust me," I told her placatingly. "You're gonna love this." With a dramatic flurry I flung open the door, revealing a bored-looking Onyx standing in a patch of shadows just beyond the door. The horse looked up.

_Oh, there you are. Did you find what you were looking for?_

"I sure did," I told her, grabbing the reins and swinging myself up onto her back. Once I was seated I looked back as Jessira who had stopped dead in the doorway, looking up at me with wide eyes and a slack jaw. "Check it out Jess! Pretty gnarly ride, don't you think?"

Jess opened her mouth but no sound came out.

_I am not a 'gnarly ride', as you so quaintly put it. _Onyx told me crossly. _And while I do find it flattering I would appreciate it if you didn't show me off to your friends as your mode of transport. I am a highly sophisticated intelligent being and expect to be treated as such._

I looked dead in the eye and replied flatly, "You're a sand pony."

She huffed. _Well, yes, but that's beside the point._

It was at this time which Jessira finally managed to regain her power of speech. "Y- you..." She stammered, looking from the horse to me. "You're riding a demon-horse!"

I patted Onyx's neck gently. "She's not a demon Jess," I corrected. "She's a Nightmare. And a very nice one too as it happens. I would let you pet her but we need to be off before her master finds out we're missing."

_I would bite her fingers off. _Onyx added, sounding miffed. _Calling me a demon. Do I look like a goat-legged red imp with horns and a pitchfork?_

"Be nice." I admonished her, swiveling her around until we were facing in the direction of the house Jess had mentioned. "She's never met a nightmare before."

Jess raised an eyebrow. "Are you...talking to it?"

_Can I please trample her?_

"No. Wait, not you Jess!" I added when Jess gave me a thoroughly puzzled look. We were wasting time. "Yes I am talking to her. She's using telepathy to talk with me. But I guess you can't hear her." I added, shrugging apologetically.

_The weak of mind cannot hear me. _Onyx said imperiously.

Cue the eye-roll. "Will you stop being such a drama-queen?" I asked the horse, spurring her forward. "We don't have much time. We'll be lucky if they aren't all asleep already. Bye Jess, see you later!"

_You keep saying __**we**__, _Onyx noted as we took off into the sky I waved to Jess who called something but I couldn't make it out. The wind had picked up with our altitude, and to be honest I felt like I was having a little trouble hearing Onyx, even though she was speaking in my head. _I'm just here for the fresh air and to make sure you're not dying._

"Fair enough." I replied. "Head for the house by the lake. She's staying at some kid named Jamie's house."

I didn't even have a second's warning before Onyx screeched to a halt and I found myself thrown from my mount and flying through the air, wildly flailing my arms in a vain attempt to slow my momentum. It didn't work. I landed in a tree, face-first. No broken bones thankfully, which was a blessing as my crash-landings went but I was still slightly recovering from my last failed flight and so it hurt a bit more than it normally did. My cloak flipped up over my face and my vision was clouded with a face-full of leaves and tangled hair for a good five minutes before I was able to right myself.

There was a lot of cursing involved and when I finally did manage to sit myself straight, I glared at Onyx. "What in the Sam-hill was that for ya dozy horse?!" I demanded, hopping out of the tree and flying up to her. Her eyes were wide and at first I thought she was afraid. Then I dismissed it.

Onyx shook her head and the look vanished. _Nothing, _she said. _It was nothing_. Her huge head swiveled from side to side, as if afraid we were being watched.

Hands on hips, I glared at her. "Onyx..."

_I need to go. _Onyx glanced upward, kneading the ground with her hoof nervously. _You can make it there by yourself can't you? Of course you can. I'll meet you back at the caves when you're done, alright?_

"Wait, Onyx!"

_I'll see you when we get home! _And then the gigantic horse took off into the night, leaving me floating there with what I'm sure has got to be the most puzzled look in the world on my face. It didn't last long.

I folded my arms across my chest. "Well fine then!" I yelled after her. "Go! See if I care! Knowing the amount of luck around this place I'll probably end up the kidnapped victim of some demon spirit's evil plan and Pitch'll have to come and rescue me and it'll all be your fault!"

Once I got the ill-temperament off my chest, the hood was up and I was off to the house Cupcake was staying at.

XXXXXXXXX

The Moon Palace was silent. A gigantic, luminescent, veritable graveyard just hanging in the sky. That's not to say people weren't there- though I suppose you could hardly classify the residents of the Moon Palace as just 'people'. There were. Manny was sitting at his telescope, looking down on the world as they passed above it. He wore not his usual silver two-piece suit and tie, but a more casual pair of blue jeans and a white buttoned t-shirt that Nightlight had stolen for him last Christmas.

Normally, Manny would be either asleep right now or talking with his brother on various subjects he needed his advice on. He had been asleep a few hours ago, but something had woken him from his slumber. A gnawing, worrisome feeling in his stomach. Something telling him he needed to get up, now!

Manny, always one to trust his gut, got up accordingly and made a quick 360 of the castle, making sure everything was as it should be. Kozmotis and his family were asleep, Katherine was asleep on her bed with a book on her face- Manny had taken the liberty and removed the book. Its pages had stuck to her face -and Nightlight was pouring over books in the alchemical lab, trying to find a new, stronger mixture to capture moonlight in- his own little pet project. The staff he had carried around with him since his birth was growing old and needed to be re-forged, and that meant he needed to remake the crystal dagger that topped it.

According to Nightlight, that meant he needed to perfect the recipe for crystalline substances Sandy had lent him but modify it so that it allowed the transubstantiation and transmutation of viscus material, such as moonlight, to converge in the crystal without shattering it and then be re-directed at an opponent.

Yeah, Manny didn't get it either. So he had politely nodded to his brother and said the stereo-typical "That's fascinating." line and no one was any the wiser.

Nightlight had always been the smart one, relatively speaking. The scholar, not the fighter, like he was. Perhaps that was why he and Katherine always got along so well, especially since Katherine's semi-retirement. Manny chuckled. Only five thousand years or so old and she was already retiring. Ha! That had to be a record. But Katherine claimed it was time, and what with the new child-spirit already blossoming into a force to be reckoned with it did feel appropriate. But that was Katherine's business, not his. He merely brought the spirit back. It was Aether's job to give them a purpose in afterlife.

After a few minutes of scanning the surface of earth to check if anything was amiss, Manny reclined in his cushioned chair with a contented sigh. Just the typical Lunanoff paranoia then. Everything was fine. Ever since this madness with the child Manny had been feeling more...was _tired_ the word? Yes probably. The great Lunanoff prince had rarely felt the sensation himself but he did know enough people who had to know he was right.

It wasn't like he hadn't the right to be tired. Watching over the girl, keeping tabs on the other spirits, reassuring the Guardians of Pitch's return to sanity, it was all just another whirlwind of chaotic taxing stress. Just another day in the life of the Man in the Moon.

Manny sighed again, smiling. That girl. Meggie. Gods above how he wished he could meet her. _Truly_ meet, her- not just watch her from afar. She still had a while yet left to grow and a lot to learn, but in barely a few months she had made so much progress. It was enough to make at least some of the stress vanish.

Manny leaned forward, telepathically ordering the telescope to pinpoint her location. She was flying around the town again. She hadn't been out in a while, and he had started getting worried but then Nightlight reported she had run into a bit of a situation a couple of nights ago and was sleeping it off.

"She even recovers fast," he marveled, watching as she zipped to and fro, as if searching for something. Yes, he had definitely made the right choice in continuing to use her. Even in spite of previous mistakes that had almost led to her destruction. But they were past that now, _hopefully_, he added inside his thoughts. He wasn't as naive to think that once she found out she wasn't going to try to kill him. He just hoped that by the time that happened he would be able to fix his little mistake and return her full memories. Hers and Pitch's, with any luck.

Yes, all seemed perfectly well and right with the world. And indeed, things appeared _so_ peaceful and calm that he contemplated turning in for the day and letting Nightlight take over steering the castle.

_I'm sure big brother won't be too angry as the disruption,_ he thought to himself as he twisted his neck to eradicate the nasty kink which always visited him following a sky-gazing session. All that time spent bent over, he supposed. _And anyway, he needs a break. He's been stooping over that table for a week now!_ Yes, it would be a good idea to get Nightlight out of the lab for a while.

Manny turned away from the telescope, intending to go find his older brother and inform him of his need to sleep. He stood, sparing only a single glance at the earth beyond the telescope.

And that was when he saw it.

Or, at least, he thought he did. Something, that is to say. He thought he saw something. It was just a quick, barely-two second flash of black, but it was enough for Manny to do a double-take.

Manny wiped the smudged lens with the hem of his shirt, then peered through the glass, wondering if he was seeing things. What greeted him was an enormous black blob, hurtling directly for the palace! Manny frowned. "What on earth...?" He zoomed in on the thing, searching for some sign of recognizably but all he could see was a molten mass of shimmering blackness, flying like a humongous bat out of hell, its bulk reflecting off the shining stars around them.

Manny wasted no more time in observing the thing. He leaped from his chair and bolted for the lab. "NIGHTLIGHT!" He hollered, instantly regretting the decision as he knew it would wake up Kozmotis and Archaline but at the same time there was an emergency and he quickly lost the regret. "Kozmotis, wake up! We're under attack!"

Immediately he heard a thunk and the frantic stomping of feet before the former general appeared in the hallway, clothes sloppily thrown on and a sword in his hands. He looked around wildly for an opponent and Manny was slightly relieved when his eyes found him and he lowered the sword. "Manny?" He asked, some of the battle-born vitality draining from his eyes. "What's wrong? Is everything alright?"

Manny rushed over and grabbed the man's arm. "No, everything is most certainly not alright! There's a mysterious black blob hurtling towards the Palace and I'm fairly certain it means us harm! You need to go find your wife and Katherine and keep them safe in case this...thing, whatever it is."

Kozmotis nodded and sheathed his weapon before headed off to fetch his wife. Manny watched him go with a look of admiration. There had always been something about the soldier which Manny had looked up to. Something profound. The ability to follow orders, without question even though he must have a million of them. It was definitely something to be respected and not mocked.

Then the admiration wore of and a grim look of determination replaced it as Manny trudged towards Nightlight's lab. No time for that. He needed to find his older brother, now! Before that thing-

Suddenly, a gigantic tremor shook the Palace. Manny fell to his knees but was on them almost immediately, looking around for the source of the quake. Nothing appeared.

"_MANNY!_" A flash of silver and Nightlight was there, hair flowing everywhere, clothes askew and his staff in-hand. "_Manny, what in Aether was that?! I haven't felt a shake like that since Sandy fell asleep in Cloud castle and we had that last total eclipse!_"

Manny almost chuckled. He would've guessed Nightlight had fallen asleep amongst his books and potions. "No Nightlight, it's not Sandy, _this time,_" he added under his breath. "It's something else."

He frowned. "_Something..._"

"Else. I don't know what. All I know is that I was using my telescope a few minutes ago and I saw a gigantic black blob hurtling towards the Palace. By that quake a few minute ago I'm guessing it's already hit us and is somewhere on the outer grounds. We need to find it."

Nightlight blinked. "_Black blob? That's not much to go on Manny._"

"I know." He agreed. "But right now that's all I've got."

Nightlight nodded, then glanced around as if something had occurred to him. "_Where are Kozmotis and Katherine?_"

Manny held up a hand. "I've sent Kozmotis to protect the others. They are fine. But we need to hurry! The lunar sentinels won't keep that thing out for long, and we need to stop it before it reaches the Palace." If only a smidgen of darkness got through these walls...the moon would be cast in shadow and never again would earth see its light. The spires would go dark and everything he had worked so hard for would be for naught.

Nightlight nodded and they turned for the door just as a tremendous amount of force crashed against them. Manny himself had no weapons but did command a formidable well of lunar power which he could tap into to defend himself almost limitlessness and Nightlight had his staff. Two spirits against whatever was behind that door.

_NIGHTLIGHT DAMN YOU TO THE DEPTHS OF THE VOID LET ME IN!_

Nightlight faltered, lowering his weapon. "_Onyx?_"

Manny, who had heard none of the black horse's voice, frowned. "What?"

Another crash. _NIGHTLIGHT LET ME IN!_

His staff hanging by his side, Nightlight crossed the hall to open the huge ornate doors. His hand reached out but felt a vice-like grip on his shoulder. "What do you think you're doing?!" Manny hissed. "That could be anything out there! And you're just going to take it head-on? What's the matter with you Nightlight?!"

Nighltight winced as another crash buckled the doors. "_That's not a monster,_" he told his brother patiently. "_It's Onyx. Pitch's Nightmare. One of them anyway. She must have some kind of message for me._"

Manny frowned. "I didn't hear anything."

"_Well of course you wouldn't. She's a Nightmare. A creature born from darkness and shadow_."

Manny's eyebrows raised. "Why can you hear her then?" He asked suspiciously.

Nightlight rolled his eyes. "_Where did a fragment of my soul spend at least ten thousand years?_" He asked impatiently. "_Use your head little brother._" He gave Manny an undignified tap on the temple before turning to the doors. "_All the same,_" he murmured to himself. "_Can't take any chances. PROVE TO ME THAT YOU ARE ONYX!_" He yelled through the door.

_DON'T YOU GET IT?! I AM GOING TO __**DIE**__ UNLESS YOU LET ME IN YOU REPULSIVE LITTLE GLOW-WORM!_

Nightlight grinned. "_Yup, that's her_." Before reaching out and opening the doors.

All Manny saw was a flash of silver, followed by a flash of black and the thundering of hooves on marble floor. A rush of wind blew his hair back and it was only because of Nightlight throwing his arm out and making sure they both backed up that he wasn't trampled underfoot by the agitated horse.

Onyx stampeded into the main hallway, then turned around to face them. She looked nothing like Nightlight remembered seeing just a month ago in the caves. This Onyx was...well...if he had to choose a word for it he would have to say haggard. Her rippling mane no longer rippled. Her nose and head had been contorted slightly; pushed back, like a person smoothing an expensive shirt, revealing a determinant scowl and baring of obsidian teeth that was quite terrifying. And that wasn't the half of it.

Flecks of multi-colored sand had been chipped away from her haunches and withers. Her tail was a sad collection of strands and her mane looked snarled. Nightlight glanced at her sides and saw, to his horror, that whole chunks of sand were missing from her. The brothers slowly approached the horse and the closer they got the more appalled they became by her condition. Nightlight was in the lead, with Manny hanging back a bit. He still wasn't that sure of dark creatures like Onyx.

"_Onyx what on earth happened to you?!_" Nightlight demanded, reaching up pat her neck but shying away when she swiveled her head to face him. Her eyes were gleaming gold with anger.

_What happened to me?!_ She roared, stomping the ground. _WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?!_

Nightlight flinched. "Alright alright, stupid question!"

But Onyx ignored him. _I'll tell you what happened to me, you bloody glowworm!_ She snarled, pushing her face right up against his. _I just went through several different spheres of hell which melted my sand, turned it to ice and then re-melted it, all just to get to you in time before Meggie does something stupid and dangerous!_

Then she fell over.

Nightlight didn't even try to catch her. What would've been the point? A two thousand pound Nightmare against a spirit who was a hundred and fifty pounds soaking wet? But nothing could've prepared him for what happened as she fell. Nearly all of the side that hit the ground shattered into a million black fragments which then melted in a pool of gook around her, giving her the impression of a half-melted snow-statue.

Nightlight dropped to her side. "_Oh Onyx, I'm so sorry we took so long. We were afraid that you-_"

_Shut up!_ She interrupted, straining to stand but her legs were engulfed in the mass of black molt. W_e don't have time for this. Pitch can fix me later. Right now, you need to know that Meggie is on her way to talk to Jamie!_

Nightlight frowned. "_The boy Jack befriended? The last light?_"

She nodded. _Yes, but it's more than that! She has a human friend, a little girl- I don't know her name, and the girl is staying at Jamie's! She thinks that they won't see her like everybody else does but she's wrong! They will see her and then they'll tell Pitch and the Guardians and it'll all come crashing down-_

"_Onyx_," Nightlight said soothingly, placing a hand on her neck and rubbing it, even though it felt like sandpaper. "_Calm down. I'm sure that whatever Meggie is doing, it's not going to throw the entire world in turmoil._"

Onyx actually snorted. _Ha! Fat load of good you know!_

Manny, who had been listening to the entire exchange- which had pretty much been Nightlight talking to himself for all that he could hear, finally spoke. "Uh...Nightlight?"

The glowing child looked up. "_Yeah Manny?_"

"What in Aether's name is going on?"

Nightlight proceeded to summarize why Onyx was here as briefly but with as much detail as he could, ending with a shrug. "_I guess she thought it would undermine your plans for the girl and so she came here as fast as she could._"

Manny nodded, mulling the information over. "I see. And...what's wrong with her?"

Nightlight shrugged. "_I think she's been through too many rapid changed in temperature. Her body is made from sand and we all know what happens when sand gets heated. Hers was heated, cooled, then heated again and now she's almost entirely a molten mass of glass and fine grains of sand_."

Now _that_ he understood. "I see. Is there any way to restore her to her original form?"

Nightlight nodded. "_Oh yes, that's easy. Just a quick transubstantiation recipe and she'll be back to her old self in no time. No, that's not what I'm worried about._"

"What are you worried about then?" Although he was pretty sure he already knew. What else could there be? "Meggie."

Nightlight nodded. "_Meggie._"

Yes, what _were_ they going to do about that? According to the horse, the girl was mere minutes away from blowing everything they had worked so hard for. One word from that boy- Jamie? -and the Guardians would find out, Pitch would remember too quickly and it would all come crashing down. "I'm not a god, Nightlight. I can't just use a human life like a plaything, to fix and edit as I see fit. That's for other spirits, not me!" Manny told him firmly, shaking his head. "So don't even bother asking me to take another being's memories."

Nightlight backed up, wary of his brother's defensive magic. "_Hold on brother, I didn't say anything like that! Actually, I'm all for us letting the girl sort this out for herself._"

Manny frowned, slightly taken aback. "What?"

Nightlight shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "_Well, we can't be expected to clean up after all the messes she makes. Otherwise how will she learn? You're right, you're not a god. A god would simply sit back and ignore her, leaving her to her own devices_."

"And what are we going to do?" Manny asked, drawn a blank.

"_We are going to watch and intervene only if it is strictly necessary. And I mean world-ending necessary. Anything less and the girl should be on her own._"

"But- but-" Manny stammered, unsure of what response to give. He had always had a hard time staying away from younger spirits and leaving them to make their own way. It was his damn soft heart and they both knew it. The only two times he hadn't personally helped in the rearing of a new spirit- namely Pitch and Jack, well... you know how that turned out. After the fiasco with Pitch, he was determined to never make that same mistake again.

Nightlight put a hand on his shoulder. "_Manny_," he said calmly. "_It's OK. I know you want to help her, but there's only so much you can do before she knows enough to take her life into her own hands and live it like she should. For now, lets just watch her and see what goes on. If Jamie tells the Guardians then we'll just have to adjust the plans accordingly. I know you still haven't found triggers for either of them,_" he gave Manny a pointed look.

Manny winced. He hadn't. Memory recall was a tricky business, and could severely ruin the mind of the subject if preformed wrongly. Pitch's recollection due to the death of the Fearlings almost completely sorted itself out. Pitch's newest memory-repression was a bit more tricky, as it was self-induced. And Meggie... he wasn't sure what would bring her memories of being a human back. The same principle was employed for both cases, however; A single trigger- something that they would recognize anywhere, no matter how many of their memories had been repressed. An item, or a phrase or something to that effect.

Manny had been trying since his discovery of the girl's rebirth to find something which would trigger hers or Pitch's memories to return, but so far he had been unsuccessful. He had run thousands of simulations and calculations, but nothing seemed like it would work.

Nightlight nodded again. "_There. You see? We aren't prepared nearly enough yet. But whatever happens, it'll happen and we'll just have to deal with it when it does. Now, if you will it brother, I'll go down to earth and see what I can see. Then, once I'm satisfied I'll come back here and fix up our friend, and we can discuss whatever needs be discussed. But I need to hurry. Time is of the essence._"

He turned to go, halting only when Manny called after him, "On your way out, can you go find Kozmotis and the girl too?" Nightlight turned back to see his brother grinning sheepishly. "They're probably hiding, waiting for the apocalypse to happen."

Nightlight laughed. "_Sure bro. I'll be back in a little while Onyx, OK? You just stay there and don't move_." With that, he turned on his heel and headed through the double-doors.

After seeking out his adoptive family and re-assuring them that the end of days was not upon them, Nightlight directed them towards the room where Manny and Onyx were and, after giving Katherine a hug, he headed out into the night. Traveling through moonbeams allowed him to find the girl a hell of a lot faster than it had taken Onyx to get to the Palace and the Bennett household was just barely coming into his view when he saw the tail-end of a familiar purple hooded cloak slip inside.

He alighted on the windowsill without a sound, forcing his body to maintain transparency so that he wouldn't be seen. Thankfully, the children which were occupying this house were all too focused on the T.V screen on the opposite side of the room and stuffing their faces with popcorn to pay any attention to what was going on behind them.

He watched silently as Meggie sneaked up behind one of the children- a spiky-haired girl whom Nightlight had never seen but assumed that this was her friend -and covered her mouth so that she wouldn't scream. A few hushed words were said, Meggie let go of the girl who turned around to give her a cold look.

Then all hell broke loose.

XXXXXXXXXX

Finding the place hadn't been nearly as hard as I thought it would be. Of course I did take a few wrong-turns and had to sacrifice some time once Onyx left and my transportation methods were limited once again to strained flying or walking.

Turns out that the world looks very different from down below on the ground than it does from up in the sky. And I mean _really_ frikking different. Up there, you can see for miles and people are just ants in a faraway maze of twisting streets and blooming greenery. Down below the treeline however, things were a lot bigger.

I strolled down the cement sidewalk, enjoying the feeling of stretching my legs again. I was certain that my feet had grown dull and lifeless during the few days spent tucked up in bed, and here I was, strolling down the street. That's not to say I wasn't right. The first few steps had been agony, burning against my calf-muscles before I slowly managed to work my body into a rhythm. It still hurt though.

The night air was crisp and the dim glow of yellowish streetlamps hung in the gloom above me from tall spires of gleaming metal, casting dark shadows around me. I thought they looked like fingers, reaching up from the depths of the caves to drag me back down to my room. I avoided them.

After quite a few wrong-turns, I finally found myself standing in front of the house Jess had told me about. It was a stereotypical house. Two-story. Unremarkable in almost all ways. Without hesitation I leaped for the windowsill and caught it by the tips of my fingers. Swinging myself up and into the room was no problem. There were more kids nit hat room than I had seen in ages! At least six of them scattered about the room, sitting in beanbags with butter smeared across their faces. Four boys and three girls, all staring wide-eyed at the screen in utter rapture as the carnage played out.

Now, normally I'm not the prank-playing type. The joke with Jess earlier was only because I was in a playful mood and I had been stuck underground for far too long without any contact with the outside world. This time I resolved to be subtle and tactile. No mucking about. Just find Cupcake, tell her what was up and get home to interrogate that weirdo horse.

It all started as smoothly as could be. I tip-toed around the others before sidling up behind Cupcake and covering her mouth with a hand. "Hey, don't freak it's me. I couldn't find you at home. Jess told me where you were."

Then I released her.

Cupcake turned in her seat to glare at me and I bet she was about to let loose with a flurry of scything comments when a voice I did not expect spoke from the other side of the room.

"Cupcake? Who are you talking...too..." The voice trailed off.

Both our heads snapped up to see a smaller boy with brown, feathery hair watching us. He wore green pjs and had a bucket of popcorn in one hand and a soda in the other. My eyes widened as they made contact with his. He could see me?! Then, suddenly another voice.

"Jamie shh! I'm trying to- hey who's that kid?"

"Bro?"

"Pippa is that you?"

"I'm over here."

"Then who's..."

And suddenly all eyes were upon me, Cupcake's included. I was so confused I couldn't even speak. It was dark, too dark to see anything other than seven pairs of glittering eyes in the blackness, like gigantic spider ready to devour me at any time. The horror movie soundtrack going on in the background didn't help much either. My head was spinning. He- no, they could see me. All of them. From the two african-american boys to the little blonde with the glasses. They could all see me! It was too much to handle, especially when they all started standing up.

"Jamie, did you invite someone else over?" Asked a girl in a beanie. With a jolt I realized that it was the girl I had helped with on the night Pitch caught me. Penny, wasn't her name or Pepper?"

"No Pippa, I didn't," replied the boy with the brown hair whom I assumed was Jamie. "Did any of you?"

Negatories came back.

Cupcake stepped in front of me. "Guys don't freak, it's OK. This is a friend of mine." She said calmly, raising her hands.

The kids advanced in a curious drove, backing me and Cupcake against the wall. Thank the gods my hood was still up, otherwise I'm sure they would've seen the look of terror in my eyes. Normally in a situation where the only people able to see you were either spirits or just one girl, being seen by someone else might be cause for celebration. But not me. No, after almost half a year of not being seen this was seriously messing with my head. I couldn't think straight. Fight or flight was clouding my brain and the mass of noises coming form the kids just made it that much worse.

"Who is he?" The blonde with the glasses asked, a little bit accusatory I thought.

"_She._" Cupcake corrected. "She's a friend. And she's really nervous around people, so why don't you guys back up a bit?"

The kids stayed put. "Who is she?" Jamie asked again. "How did she get in here?"

"Is she homeless?" Queried one of the boys as his twin said, "Yeah, is she?"

"She doesn't look homeless to me," pointed out Pippa. "She looks like an actress."

"She's not," Cupcake assured them. "She's just a little-"

Suddenly, my body found strength to move again and I did the only thing I could think of; I bolted for the window.

"Skittish! Crap gods dammit Meggie get back here it's OK!" Cupcake finished her sentence then lunged for me, her hands wrapped around my waist and she straight line-backer style tackled me to the ground. Unfortunately, she grabbed me just as I was about dive out of the window and as a consequence I hit my chin on the window frame. I lost consciousness for about a minute, during which I was dragged unassumingly to the center of the room where a lot of kids crowded around me and talked noisily while they waited for me to wake up.

When I did wake up- and there was a lot of cursing involved as I slowly clawed my way back to consciousness -I found Cupcake kneeling beside me while the other faces of the kids looked down in grim worry.

"You think she'll be OK?" Pippa was asking. Her voice was muffled, like I was hearing it through earplugs.

I'm guessing Cupcake nodded because my head shook a little. "She'll be fine." One of the kids must've expressed their disbelief because she added, "I've seen this girl walk on wooden floorboards with glass in her feet. Trust me, she can take it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence kid." I grunted, lifting my head up just enough. Light shone down from a lamp that was right above my head. I closed my eyes. "Can ya shut that damn thing off?" I asked weakly.

"Hey!" Objected Jamie. "There's a little girl here!"

"Yeah yeah whatever pipsqueak, just shut the light off before I go blind!"

"Go ahead Jamie," urged Pippa. "It's obvious the light hurts her eyes."

I heard begrudged grumbling and footsteps, then the blessed darkness swooped in to cradle me as the light was snuffed out. I sighed in relief. "Ah, that's sooo much better."

"Are you a vampire?" Asked one of the kids. I thought it was the blonde boy.

I turned to look sardonically at him in the dim light letting my eyes flash a bright red. Just for a second. "What do you think squirt?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.

He let out a squeak and ran to hide behind Cupcake. I laughed. Cupcake punched my shoulder.

"Meggie that's not cool! Apologize to Monty!" She demanded, hands on her hips.

I ignored her, bracing my arms against the floor to push my aching body up into a sitting position. "Oooh, that hurt."

Another punch. "Serves you right! You can't just sneak into my friend's house like this! What did you expect to happen?!"

I ignored that too. My head was still swimming slightly and when I reached up to feel my jaw I winced. Tender. But not broken. "Back up." I grunted at the kids, leaning forward until I was on all fours and forcing my body to its feet. The kids scurried away, except for Cupcake who stood there, her spiky hair quivering with rage. We glared at each other like fighters, squaring off before a match. I could tell she was pissed at me but I was a littleways past caring.

Finally, after a few moments of silence, Cupcake sighed. "Guys, can we have some room? I've got to talk to my friend."

Internally, I winced. Great. Another lecture.

The kids obediently scooted back a few feet to the other side of the room where the congregated in a huddle, watching us. I watched them go- they couldn't have been more than ten or twelve, except for the little blonde toddler standing next to Jamie -before turning to face Cupcake. "So…good movie?" My weak attempt at casual conversation when there was nothing casual about the situation.

Cupcake's eyes narrowed. "Don't try that casual crap on me Meggie. You should know by now that it _doesn't work_."

I shrugged. "Figured I'd give it a shot."

She gave a long-suffering sigh and raised a hand to her face, massaging her brow in the way she often did when she was exasperated with me. I didn't speak. After another stretch of silence, she brought her hand away. She was looking grim. "Meggie, what are you doing here?" Her voice brooked no runaround but I decided to give it a shot anyways.

"I was just in the neighborhood and thought I would stop by. Jess told me you were here so I hopped in through the window."

Margaret gave me an unimpressed look. The hands on hips were back. "Horse huckey."

"You're right. I found out some new powers of mine and wanted to see if you had any theories on them." I admitted. "To be fair though, Jess didn't tell me how many kids would be here. I thought it would be just a quick thought nab and grab. So really, it's her fault that I'm here and not mine at all. HA!"

The look was back. "Don't change the subject Meggie. I'm still mad at you for scaring the crap out of the rest of them. What on earth were you thinking?!"

My light mood deteriorated and I scowled. "I didn't think they would see me, _Cupcake_." I grumbled. "How was I to know? You and Jess have been the only people who has seen me since this whole nightmare began! I didn't even think that other people _could_ see me!"

We stood there glaring at each other for I didn't bloody know how long. I expected her to sigh again and say, "Oh well, it's happened and there's nothing we can do about it," but she didn't. She just stood there, watching me. Eventually I had had enough judging.

"Alright, well, I think I'd best head home. Leave you guys to your movie." I turned to leave.

"Wait!"

Cupcake and I turned around. It was Jamie. He ran across the room to stand between us.

"You can't leave yet! We've only just met you!" He protested, looking utterly ridiculous in his green jammies.

I rolled me eyes and turned away. "Trust me kid, you're better off not knowing me."

Cupcake snorted but Jamie didn't back down.

"That's not true and you know it," he said defiantly, reaching out to grab onto my arm. I let him and didn't pull away, spinning around to face him. I saw a flash of fear momentarily cross his face, replaced by that innocent wide-eyed look of curiosity seconds later. "Please? Can't you just stay a little while? I promise we won't…like…force you to stay or anything. And we'll keep the lights off!" He was babbling, desperate to keep this stranger from leaving.

I sighed, glancing at Cupcake. "Are you sure these kids can be trusted? I don't like blabbing my secret to just anyone."

The kids behind us started bobbing their heads, chiming, "Oh yeah." "You can trust us!" "Totally!"

Another roll of the eyes, for theatrical reasons primarily. "Alright, alright. I guess I can stick around for a little while." I turned back to the group, raising a warning finger. "But you're not to tell anyone about me, understand? Not mommy, not daddy, not a teacher, nobody. _Got it?_"

Another chorus of affirmatives. I turned to Jamie, sweeping off my hood with a dramatic flourish. "Meggie, spirit of unknown usefulness," I said, extending a hand for him to shake. "At your service."

XXXXXXX

"HA!" Crowned Manny, leaning back from the telescope lens, face flushed with the excitement. "I knew they wouldn't let her go that easily!"

Nightlight was almost as jubilant. "_And she's got some newer believers! Her powers are going to grow tenfold now!_" He added, dancing around the room happily.

Manny nodded, grinning like a loon. "And so far, nothing bad has happened! The boy doesn't even seem to recognize her!"

"That's because he never actually saw her," Archaline put in from her spot on the chez lounge beside her husband who had also been watching the events via a monitor. "Remember? It was an open-casket funeral but no one wanted to look at her face."

"That's right," Kozmotis added. "I think the only ones who saw her face were those three girls and us. Jamie didn't actually talk to her except through messages on that magical box thing."

"_It's called a computer, Kozmotis._" Nightlight corrected automatically. "_But that's a very good point Archaline. And I think you're right. None of the others did look at her when we attended the funeral_."

The others nodded. It would make sense.

Suddenly, Manny let out a squawk of laughter that would have rivaled any condor. The others turned to look at him but he didn't pay them any mind. Bolts of laughter erupted from Manny's mouth like a fountain of mirth; great belly-laughs that shook his form and would have shamed North to the tips of his Cossack boots. "Ah! Ah! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! OH MY ÆTHER THAT IS JUST- AHAHAHA!" It was slightly maniacal now and Nightlight started edging away from his brother who was currently five seconds away from losing it.

"_Uh...Bro? Are you Ok?_" He asked a little uncertainly.

Manny wasn't even able to stop laughing long enough to form coherent words so instead he waved his arms, which Nightlight took to mean he was alright and, after a few minutes, his laughter had slowed to a manageable chuckle and he was able to speak again. First thing he did was apologize.

"I'm sorry about that, all." He said, grinning sheepishly as he glanced around. "It's just..." he muffled his snort with a hand over his mouth. "We've been so worried about the others recognizing her as Abby before they were supposed to that we didn't even think about nobody ever having seen her before!" And with that, he erupted into laughter once more.

Nightlight had to chuckle. "_It is kind of funny._" He admitted to Koz and Archaline who looked puzzled. "_Our biggest worry thus far has been the Guardians seeing Meggie and recognizing her but now that's all out the window because they all never actually saw her!_"

As soon as it dawned on the others, they started laughing too. It was hilarious, in a twisted, ironic sort of way.

"_So_," Nightlight said once the laughter had subsided. "_What's our resident trouble-maker doing now?_"

Manny leaned into the telescope, following Meggie with the scrutinizing lens like a bug under a microscope. "She's still inside the Bennett house. Oh, wait! No, she's leaving. She's heading back to the caves."

Kozmotis leaned in. "And Pitch? Where is he?"

Manny refocused the lens. "Umm...inside the caves. In his rooms. They shouldn't run into each other until later." He reported. "Excellent." And it was excellent. It appeared that everything was working itself out for the best.


	18. Unnecessary Toughness

**Hallo yall! Here's that new chapter I promised! Sorry it took so long but like usual I've been working my butt off. However, I know better than to neglect my work and have been struggling to finish this chapter for nearly two months now, battling procrastination and using the great vibes sent from my readers to booster my inspiration and my best friend Lilly's review definately was a big part of that. Thanks Lilly! **

* * *

Jamie shook the extended hand. "Pleased to meet you." He said politely and I immediately realized I liked this kid. "I'm Jamie Bennett, and this is my little sister Sophie." He gestured to the little blonde, who I now noticed was wearing fairy wings strapped to her back over her pink jammies, standing beside him.

At the mention of her name, Sophie looked up and smiled innocently at me. "Pretty!" She reached up and tried to grab a strand of my hair which was hanging loose now and, not wanting to be as mean as I had first pretended to be, I knelt down to her level and let her. I was bracing myself for the worse- having seen kids 'playing' with pretty hair before and knowing what to expect, but Sophie totally blew me away. She didn't tug at all. Instead she just held my hair in her tiny hands, staring in wonder at it. "Pretty..." She repeated dreamily.

"It is," Pippa put in, taking a few steps forward. "Pretty, I mean. Your hair. How did you get it that color?"

Before I had a chance to respond, Cupcake stepped in for me. "She's always had it that color. Ever since I've known her. It's never faded."

Pippa whistled approvingly. "Remind me to get her brand." She muttered to Jamie under her breath before turning to me. "I'm Pippa, by the way."

I nodded. "Pleasure."

"That's the twins, Caleb and Claude." Pippa continued, pointing at the black boys. "And this," she clapped the blonde with the red glasses on the shoulder. "Is Monty. He's Cupcake's boyfriend," she whispered conspiratorially to me.

My eyebrows shot up. "Oho? Really Margaret? Since when have you had a boyfriend?" I had been needling the kid about this for the last few weeks before the whole Pitch fiasco and, to tell you the truth, she really did need one. All those pheromones had to be put to some use, and she was a teenager after all. It would be good for her to have someone other than her family and me to care about her.

Monty tried to protest but Cupcake smoothly overrode him. "Since last year." She told me, grinning at the squirmy look on the boy's face. "We're planning a June wedding."

The kid nearly choked. "W-we are?!" He stammered, looking utterly perplexed. His glasses slid down his nose and he pushed them up again with one finger, looking at us all in turn with wide, green eyes.

Everyone busted up laughing. Jamie and Pippa started rolling on the floor and the twins started pounding the ground as howls of laughter wracked their systems. Even Sophie, whom I was sure had no idea what we were laughing about, ran around the room like a little lunatic waving her arms and squeaking with elated glee.

I almost felt sorry for the kid.

After that, things got quite a big easier. We all got introduced, Jamie suggested we all sit down. I sat on the bed, next to Cupcake and Monty, Jamie and Pippa sat in bean-bags, facing us. The twins had their own ground-level black plastic j-shaped gamer chairs with padded arm rests which they slowly kicked back and forth idly. It was kind of like a club meeting, what with the snacks and comfy chairs and dim lights and such.

I smiled, looking around at all of them. It made me happy that they were in here, with good food and good friends instead of out on the streets getting knocked up or drinking. Too many teenagers were hanging around the streets instead of in school, and mostly because they had no good reason to go. They didn't have any drive. They weren't kids anymore.

_It's disgusting how adults today sucked the youth out of kids these days,_ I thought, scowling slightly._ It's like, either be naive and locked up in a classroom or bludgeoned to death beneath responsibility and judging. _I made sure to keep my scowl in the inside.

After making sure everybody was comfy, Jamie got up and brought over some of the snacks they had nabbed for the movie. He offered some to me shyly, as a sort of peace-offering for earlier. I accepted gratefully- bloody garbage disposal of a glutton that I am, although I still haven't gained or lost much weight since I started training in the gym -and we passed around buttery bags of popcorn and skittles while the kids asked me questions. It seemed they wanted to know everything about me. More than I wanted to know about myself at times.

"Do you live with Cupcake?" Asked Jamie, chomping on a handful of kernels.

I poured out a small pile of rainbow sours into my palm and gulped them down like pills. "No. I've got my own place now. I did live with her until a few weeks ago though."

"Do you know how old you are?" That was Pippa, her beanie slouched over her blueish grey eyes which she noticed and pushed back up deftly, as if she had been doing it her whole life.

I shrugged. "Well, Cupcake says I look sixteen. I don't remember anything about my life before now or what led to me being a spirit but since I woke up I think it's been...what would you say Cupcake?" I glanced inquiringly at the girl. "Nearly five months now?"

She nodded. "That sounds right, yeah."

"So like, are you _really_ a spirit?"

This came from one of the twins and I answered readily. "I guess, since that's what everybody's saying and I'm no expert, so I'm just going which everyone's best guess. Cupcake told me from the start about mythics and spirits and the like. I didn't really believe her."

The kids gawked at me like I had uttered blasphemy. "You didn't _believe_ her?" Jamie asked, looking at me with those deep brown eyes full of his own disbelief. Those eyes were strangely wise for his youth, I noticed but didn't comment.

I shrugged, giving the kid my best sardonic expression. "Believe in gods and monsters and spirits that are supposed to just be make-believe? Would you?"

"YES!" Said Jamie, Pippa, Monty, Caleb, Claude, Cupcake and Sophie as one.

I winced. Yeesh these kids were loud. "OK OK, fair enough. Well I didn't. Not at first any way. Heck I didn't even know anything was wrong with me until my first change. It hurt like a sunnuvagun let me tell you."

"It's true," Cupcake put in. "She passed out for like a week."

Pippa, who had been fairly quiet this whole time, chose that moment to speak. She, like the other kids, was standing in a sort of semi-circle around Cupcake and I who were sitting on the bed. And when I heard her voice I turned to look at her. "You said you didn't know anything was _wrong_ with you." She said carefully, clearly wary of me and I could tell she didn't want to upset me. "Don't you like being a spirit?"

I shrugged. "I guess it's alright. I don't really know what I'm a spirit of, and you're the only people so far apart from Cupcake and her sister who have been able to see me thus far, I keep blacking out whenever I stretch my limits even the remotest bit, and I seem to have absolutely no control over my powers. So yeah, it's been a bit of a challenge to adapt."

Cupcake put a hand on my shoulder sympathetically. "Still not being able to Change without pain?"

"It's somewhat lessened." I admitted. "I've been practicing a lot more often and it still hurts, but it's manageable." To some extent. I didn't tell her about the headaches or the bruising that didn't seem to fade as fast as the ones I got from normal wear and tear.

"It...hurts?" Jamie asked hesitantly, clearly unnerved by the concept. Evidently all the spirits he knew didn't get hurt by their own powers.

I put on a good game-face. "Not a whole lot kiddo. It's more like a shock to my system."

"What do you mean 'Change'?" Monty asked curiously. "You aren't a lycanthrope, are you?"

I blinked. "Come again?"

"A werewolf." Cupcake explained. "Monty likes to use the scientific names for things."

I snorted. "No Monty, I'm not a werewolf. I'm a Changeling. A shape-shifter spirit, or so I'm told."

Monty's jaw dropped open. "A shape-shifter? We haven't seen one of those before! What can you do? Can you mimic anyone's appearance? Anyone at all? Like, could you copy me? Can you copy inanimate objects too, like a chair? Or a book? Oh, how about a whole house!"

The questions appeared never-ending. Wave after wave of constant barrages that made my head spin and I tried to stem the flow of words just he just ignored me and kept rambling on. Eventually I had to closed my eyes and duck my head to try and drown out the melee.

Cupcake noticed and cuffed Monty on the back of the head. "What's the matter with you?" She asked, glaring at him. "Give her a chance to actually answer why don't ya! And she's clearly not comfortable talking about this so please, just let her be." To me she said, "Meggie, it's OK. You don't have to answer any of this if you're not comfortable."

I shrugged. "It's not that I'm not comfortable. It's that...I don't know the answers. So far, I've only been able to take a few full shapes. And each time I do it it hurts for quite a while afterwards. And it takes a while too. It's not over and done with like- poof. It takes concentration and focus. I can do some small Changes like this," and so saying I focused and my luscious purple hair fell out onto the bed where it disappeared and the stringy, brown hair which belonged to the little girl with dark skin I had morphed into before grew out of my scalp in its place. "But it takes a lot out of me to maintain it."

The kids gawked at what was quite frankly a pitiful transformation. I knew the second I felt the white-hot fire coursing through my scalp that I wouldn't be able to enact a fully-fledged Change. There were pieces, clumps of purple hair still residing in my scalp and I winced as the brown hair fell out and was replaced by the purple again.

"Wow," Jamie breathed, looking wide-eyed and very impressed. "That was awesome!"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess from your perspective it's pretty cool."

"It is!" He insisted. "That's the most awesome thing I've ever seen! And I've seen gigantic sand-dinosaurs and winter spirits battling!"

Suddenly, Cupcake's eyes lit up. "Oh my gosh Meggie, I just realized something!" She grabbed my arm and when I turned to look at her I saw her eyes were blazing with excitement and her hand practically shook form joy.

I leaned away from her slightly. "That you've had waaay too much sugar?"

"No!" She grabbed my hand and pulled me up off the bed, causing little Sophie to tumble off my lap and land on the bed with a slight thump. She squeaked and raised her head with a yawn, looking around sleepily. Evidently my lap is a good place for a little kid to nap. Cupcake pulled me out onto the open and started dancing a mad dance of joy. "Do you know what this means?!" She asked, spinning me around and around like some demented nursery rhyme.

I burped. The world was moving waaay too fast. A blur of blue walls with random splotches to account for the color of the kids pj's and other miscellaneous objects scattered about the room. "That I'm gonna puke all over you if you don't stop spinning me?" I was already starting to feel uggy.

She stopped spinning immediately. "Oh I'm so sorry Megs," she apologized, sounding like a mix of sincere and excited. Her eyes were still gleaming. "But this is just so great! It's wonderful!"

"WHAT?!" I demanded, grabbing her shoulder. I hate being the last one to know things. "WHAT is so great and wonderful that you have to spin me around like a ragdoll?!"

There was that loopy grin on her face again. She took a deep breath before saying, very calmly, "You have believers now."

I blinked. "Come again?"

Jamie got it instantly. "You have believers now! Us! That makes you a real spirit!" Now he was up and dancing around in childish glee. "This is wonderful Meggie!" He cried, taking my hands in his and dancing happily.

Now the other kids were starting to get it and they started cavorting around me like I was some kind of queen at a festival while I just stood there, taking it all in. They were right. I had believers now. People- kids, who could see me. I wasn't completely alone anymore. It hit me like a ton of bricks and I felt my knees buckling. I wasn't alone.

Suddenly my sight went black and a face- too quick for me to make any features out, flashed in front of my vision. _"You'll never walk alone."_ A child's voice. Mine, like in the dreams? No. this voice was pure, innocent. Not tarnished by years of cold and dark.

And then I felt an enormous amount of pride seeping into my heart. Not in myself or the kids, but the fact that I had stuck it out for so long after time after time of being walked through. Not so many times as Pitch, but sometimes the less time you have the more it hurts. I knew that better than anyone. It could suck you in, the hopelessness. Make you feel like you were nothing. That was a given.

But then worse, it could make you feel like you could be something. You just chose not to. That was the darkness I had nearly slipped into, those early days nearing my first Change. Bone, flesh, spirit, yours eternal. That was Death to a spirit, or so I'm told. The void. The unrelenting blackness. I shuddered, trying to turn my thoughts away from that. Pitch had told me about the void. According to him, it wasn't that bad a place. It was simply where recycled spirits' souls went when they weren't needed. The final journey. Stasis. Purgatory. If you believed in that kind of thing.

Evidently I had been standing there for a lot longer than I thought, thinking all these melancholy bipolar thoughts because as my sight returned and I blinked, trying desperately to catch that image and imprint it onto my mind, I felt Cupcake's hand on my arm and saw her worried brown eyes looking up into mine. She was saying something.

"Meggie, sit down before you fall down." She ordered, putting a firm hand on my shoulder. She knew how bad it got when I was stressed. I could pass out, go into a blind stupor or even get violent. And those were best case scenarios.

I obeyed mutely, like an automaton. Bone creaking. Rusty gears chewing together like treads against ground. The bed creaked beneath me.

"Breathe." She counseled. "I know this is a lot to take in. We both knew this day would come when you would have more believers than just me, so try to enjoy it. OK? And breath. It's gonna be alright." To the kids she said, "Hey guys, can you give her some space? She's a little shaken up by all of this. She's been wanting to be seen and to know her story for so long that..." she left the end of the sentence hanging.

The kids, who had stopped dancing and were now crowded around me, looking worried, backed up on Cupcake's command, nodding. They understood, particularly Jamie. He had seen the damage lack of belief could do and didn't want any spirit to ever experience that while he was alive.

Jamie sat back down in his beanbag, the exuberance already faded from his face which then lapsed into the the guilty and semi-puzzled look of someone who has just realized something with massive potential for badness. I could feel the discontentment rolling off of him in waves and I glanced up.

"You alright kid?"

All eyes turned to Jamie who had the grace to ignore it. He shrugged "Yeah. I was just wondering...do you think that it wouldn't have hurt to Change so much if we had believed in you from the start?"

I'll admit, that tugged at my heartstrings. A veritable hush fell over the crowd of kids and I sighed, leaning forward. "It's not your fault kid," I told him gently, patting him on the shoulder. Sophie had crawled back into my lap again and was burrowed underneath my cloak like a rabbit. "I've actually kind of gotten used to it over the months. It's painful, sure, but you know what they say." I chucked him under the chin. "Pain makes sure you know you're alive."

He nodded and there was a short stretch of uncomfortable silence, broken eventually by one of the twins.

"Hey man, I don't mean to be rude but...if you don't learn about your powers from trial and error, cause, y'all know, what with it hurting and all," the boy paused. I think it was Claude. "How do you, like, learn more about your powers?"

I beamed, thrilled to be away from the topic of my Changeling pain. "Well, these have been pretty helpful." And so saying I pulled out the books which I had brought from my pack and placed them on the bed. The kids leaned in.

"What are these?" Cupcake asked.

"Books on Changelings. I found them hanging around an old library." I answered vaguely, the lies rolling off my tongue so easily. "They're meant to be taken as fiction or fantasy but I've found that some of the things in here actually make sense. I was going to ask you if you would take a look at them, Cupcake, and tell me what you think."

Cupcake made immediately for the books, picking them up and weighing them in her hands. "Nice size volume," she commented. "Bit dusty. Doesn't the Library you got these from take care of their books?"

I shrugged. "It was an old library."

Cupcake skimmed the contents quickly, then asked if she might keep them for a short while. I told her she could keep one because I needed the other and she accepted this.

"Can I see it?" Inquired Jamie, the peak of politeness.

I nodded. "Go ahead kiddo. You guys seem to know an awful lot about spirits for your age, so who'm I to stop you? You'll probably find something vital out for me."

The kids crowded around the books, lifting their pages, inspecting the contents. The only one that didn't was Sophie who had crawled into my lap and was absently playing with my hair. She looked up at me.

"Pretty."

I smiled. "Thanks kid. You're pretty cute yourself." I ruffled her mass of untidy blonde locks and she hummed appreciatively. "Atta girl." She snuggled deeper into my lap and I couldn't help but smile.

The kids lost interest in the book within a matter of minutes- apart from Jamie. He kept looking through the pages meticulously, as if there were a secret code only he could read hidden in the margins. After a while, he gave up.

"That's pretty cool," he admitted, handing the books back to Cupcake who handed one to me. "I can't make heads or tails of it, but I hope they help."

I nodded. "Oh they have." I told them. "They've made stuff so much clearer." Exactly _what_ stuff I didn't elaborate on and the kids accepted it at face-value. Cupcake's eyes lingered on the book I was allowing her to take for a moment before she spoke.

"You said something about new powers?"

I went to nod, then I thought better of it. No use misrepresenting myself, especially when there were a bunch of kids present. "Well...Maybe."

She raised an eyebrow. "_Maybe?_"

I reached into my backpack and pulled out the third book. "I found this a few days ago." I told Cupcake, passing the tome to her.

She opened it and immediately a frown crossed her brow. "It's blank."

I nodded. "Yeah. It's always like that. You have to say the title of the story for it to appear, otherwise it'll stay blank. Not all the time though. Last night I was looking through it and I didn't even say anything but it turned to a story anyway."

"Which story?" Pippa asked, curiously.

"Alive Through the Needle's Eye."

"Oh I love that book!" She said, grinning. "It's not quite as good as Lewis Caroll's originals but it's still a good book."

"Hey yo, check this out!" Called one of the twins who was seated closest to cupcake. The book was glowing again and text was starting to appear.

"Even if Alice didn't know for certain how long she had been trying to thread she needle," Cupcake read aloud. "Is this that story?" She tilted the book in my direction but I didn't even need to see the page to know it was.

I nodded. "Yup. That's it."

"So...the story just appears in this little black book whenever you say it aloud?" Jamie asked, also leaning forward to view the book.

My eyes widened. "_Black_ book?" Curiouser and curiouser. It appeared Jamie couldn't see the true visage of the book either. And neither could the others, judging by the quizzical looks they were giving me. I waved a hand. "Forget it." The color of the book wasn't nearly as pressing to me as the qualities which it possessed.

The look on Cupcake's face clearly said she wanted to discuss this more but as I glanced behind me I realized I was running out of time. Night that had been falling was now rising form the pits of blackness, into the daunting fire of dawn. Golden tendrils, snaking across the foggy tobacco smoke-blue horizon and red tongue flickered on the edges where the orb would rise.

"So, what's so special about this book?" Jamie prodded. "Aside from the obvious. What did it do to you? Or did you do something to it? Something to do with your powers?"

I shrugged. "Well...here's the thing kid. The first time I opened that book I was stinking about Cupcake here and the stories I used to read her before bedtime." I was happy to see that no one snickered or judged her in that note. "She really liked the Hobbit and so I was thinking about that story when I opened the book. The story appeared and I read a few sentences aloud, purely for nostalgie's sake..." I paused, wondering how to put this. "The book started to glow and I felt myself being tugged out of my chair. Then I was falling."

The kids were all leaning forward- even Sophie, with wide eyes and slack jaws, waiting to hear the rest.

I shrugged. "The next thing I know some little man in a green vest that looks like Bilbo Baggins is yelling at me to get out of his cabbages."

Cupcake laughed. "You _fell_ into Bilbo Baggin's cabbage patch?"

"It wasn't Bilbo," I corrected. "He was too old. But it _was_ Bag End. And I didn't fall into a cabbage patch I fell _on to_ a cabbage patch.

Pippa frowned. "Isn't that where babies come from?"

Monty paled. "Oh man, I'll never doubt mom and dad again!"

At that I laughed. Full-on chuckling turned into snorts of he-hawing mirth and the other kids who knew exactly to what Pippa was referring to, started laughing too. Once a giggle-fest, always a giggle-fest.

"Y-you still believe that Monty?!" Cupcake asked, her voice contorted with mirth. "Wow."

"Don't worry kid," I told the blonde who was blushing profusely. "You'll have plenty of opportunity in the future to learn the truth."

He looked like me might pass out from embarrassment.

Cupcake punched me on the shoulder. "Hey, know one's allowed to make fun of Monty but me." She warned.

I rubbed my shoulder. The kid could still pack a punch, that was for sure. "Alright alright Cupcake, I'll lay off." I raised my hands in surrender, knowing that she had a thing about people picking on others smaller than them.

"Good."

"It's getting late anyway," I stood. "I should probably get back."

No rest for the wicked it seemed,because once again the kids erupted in a storm of protesting. "But this was just starting to get interesting!" Jamie complained, jumping up out of his beanbag. "We haven't figured out what your new power is! Or if you even have another power! Or what kind of spirit you are! Can't you stay a little bit longer?"

I almost caved right then and there. Those pleading eyes, that pouty stuck-out bottom lip. But it was more than that. I really did want to stay for the simple reason that I _finally_ had someone who really did want me around who wasn't just saddled with me out of obligation. Unlike Pitch and Cupcake, I hadn't been saddled with Jamie since practically the beginning. I owed the boy nothing and he owed me nothing. And yet...I still wanted to stay.

But I didn't.

"Sorry kid," I told him, tousling his hair gently as I crossed the room and headed for the window. "But I've got places to be. Maybe I'll come around later though. Alright?"

He nodded, looking downcast. "OK."

"Hey, keep your chin up kiddo." I told him, guilt gnawing at my heart. I hated seeing kids depressed. "I'll be back! I'm not gonna poof off and leave you hanging! That would be cruel. However, it is late and you all do need to be going to bed. I have a feeling you won't, but I'm going to say goodnight anyway in case you do." Cupcake ran and hugged me, slamming into me with her usual gusto.

"Be safe out there, OK?" She said seriously, holding me by the shoulders. "I don't want to have to patch you up like that first night ever again."

I nodded. "Don't worry about me kiddo, I know better than that now. The only trouble I'll be getting into will be with you." I smirked and she punched me.

"That's what I'm worried about!"

I felt a tapping against my leg and glanced down to see Sophie looking hopefully at me. "Pretty lady gotta go?" She asked timidly.

I knelt to her level. "Yes sweety, I have to go."

She shuffled her feet, fairy wings ruffled by the movement. "Can I give pretty lady a hug?" She asked and those wide green eyes practically melted me.

I beamed, opening my arms. "Of course little one."

She let out a squeak of delight and her little arms wrapped around my torso while a head of crazy blonde hair obscured all but a little of my vision. Cupcake chuckled as I glared at her through wispy strands of blonde. "Aww, I had no idea you were so good with kids." She cooed. "This is so precious!"

"Laugh it up you little hedgehog." I snarked. "One day this'll be you. And then I'm gonna laugh because as aunty I'll have prerogative over when I can watch your kids." I turned my head and saw the other kids snickering at her. "And you lot, get over here! I want hugs from you guys too, first believers!"

It was like a stampeding cattle herd headed my way. The ground shook, there was squealing and I was nearly knocked off my feet as they slammed into me, hugging me for all I was worth.

"Alright alright ya little hellions, you're smothering me!" I yelled but they ignored me and kept piling on more bodied until I was virtually buried underneath a dogpile of pre-teens. I writhed and kicked but it wasn't enough to dissuade the tower of giggling kids. So I did the only thing I could do. I started tickling. The kids got off me faster than fleas of a bathed dog, all of them still giggling. Not long after that, I left. They begged me to stay but I couldn't. Too may things to think about. I had to solemnly promise to Jamie and Cupcake that I would in fact come back before they would let me go.

I did, and then left.

It was as if I had never gone. Sneaking past the Nightmare sentries, I stole away back to my room, hid my things, switched into bedcothes and was just clambering into bed when I heard a gentle knocking. "Meggie? Meggie are you awake?"

It was Pitch, obviously.

I tried to make my hair a little less wind-swept. "Yes? Come in."

He opened the door and beamed when he saw me. "Hey, glad to see you up and lively." He closed the door gently.

I shrugged. "Good food, good rest and a good caretaker. Does a near-drowning victim a world of good."

He visibly flinched at the unintended barb and I felt guilty. I smiled apologetically. "Sorry Pitch. I really am feeling better. Thank you."

Pitch relaxed slightly. "Well, I'm glad. You really did scare me for a second there young lady. I don't want to have to go through something like that again, even if it is to save your life. I will do it," He added when I raised an eyebrow. "I'll lay down my own life for you in a heartbeat, but I hope that you know better and can make the right choices to where that won't be necessary again."

I nodded. "You got it Pitch. No more death-defying stunts for this Changeling. I am retired from the adrenaline junkie biz. Cross my heart and hope to die." It was best to humor him for now until all this blew over. Though I had no intention to getting hurt like this again, I wasn't about to top being me just because of a few comatose days.

He folded his arms, looking slightly relieved that I hadn't decided to fight him on the subject. "Great. Excellent. I'm so glad you feel that way." He beamed. "And, because you're being so adult about all of this, I think it's time you earned a little treat." His eyes were practically gleaming and I frowned suspiciously, wondering just what he meant by 'treat'.

"And, what's that then?" I asked. "Another Changeling book?"

"Have you read through the first one already?" He asked in return, then laughed. "What am I saying, of course you probably have. You've been cooped up here for days now." A smile creased his lips and I tensed, sensing impending doom of some sort or another. "Which is why I've decided to give you the option to walk around in the nearby forest and surrounding town, and only if you feel up to it."

I blinked, slightly shocked. He wasn't trying to keep me on lock-down anymore? Not that he could, but still. To be offered a chance to walk around outside, and from what I was hearing without a bodyguard! It was surprising if not downright unbelievable. "I...I don't know what to say." I stammered. "Thank you Pitch."

He shrugged as if the thanks were completely unnecessary. "It's the least I could so. I know you hate being underground for long periods of time and, rather than deal with a moody teenager I'm sacrificing peace of mind for keeping you happy."

I nodded my thanks once again, hoping he knew how much it meant to me. Maybe I could stay here for good after all. It was my instinct not to stay at one place for very long- as evident by my leaving Cupcake's so easily. It was becoming boring, tiring and I wasn't gaining anything new from being there. So I left. Then I found Pitch and learned some new stuff, gained some friends and now some believers. But now...I was questioning wither I wanted to stay or move on.

The new believers had given me a brand new perspective on things, as it were. Before, I thought I was alone because only one little girl could see me. Now, I was able to be seen by kids who believed in me. I still don't know how they believed in me or why, but they did and I could use that. I could travel the world, trying to find more children to believe in me and somewhere along the way I might even discover my purpose. It was a long shot, but I truly did want to take it.

On the other hand, I had become attached to the Boogeyman, and not just because he saved my life. He truly did seem to care for me and my well-being, evidently to the point where he would lay down his life for me. That was something I hadn't encountered as of yet and was...bewildering. But not unexpected. If I had learned anything about people in my short time on this earth it was that they were a kindly race, devoted to caring for others even at the expense of their own life.

"Now," Pitch told me seriously. "I expect you to stay within the boundaries of the forest. You can go to the lake and into the outskirts of town, but the last thing you need is to be passed through in your state. The only reason I ask this is so that you can stay just close enough so that I can reach you if anything happens." I nodded. That was reasonable. "I need to be going on my rounds soon and since the nightmares will be out I stink you'll be safe."

"Will I have a Nightmare watching me?"

He frowned, a little surprised at my asking for a bodyguard when normally I would prefer to be without one. "If you want one, of course. I'm sure Onyx would be happy to accompany you."

I shrugged. "It's not necessary. But if she's not busy sure. That way I won't have to fly so far." Not to mention it would give me a chance to talk to the horse about her weird behavior.

Pitch's eyes narrowed and I felt an internal source of exasperation start welling. This couldn't be good. "Speaking of which, I don't want you flying at all tonight. You're still recovering," he told me when I tried to interrupt. "Whither you feel up to it or not, please indulge me just this once and walk. Alright?" Then the seriousness evaded and he poked my tummy. "Besides, it'll do you some good after eating all those pancakes."

Damn my ticklishness all the way to hell and back. I giggled like a baby. "OK OK!" I said, swiping his hand away playfully. "I'll walk! But If I come home with leg cramp you are going to have to listen to me whine all night long!"

He nodded, smiling. "Fair enough. I'll leave you to get dressed and then escort you topside."

And then he left.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Pitch had an extra spring in his step that night as he traveled the world, giving nightmares to the allotted children for that night. Meggie was safe and sound and doing better than ever! Their training would be starting soon, and now that they were past the awkward, unreadable stage and were making real progress, he had high hopes for the future.

Pitch had left Meggie's side sometime around eight at night at the mouth of the caves. She promised to be back home by twelve and, even though Onyx still was nowhere to be found, had agreed to be intermittently monitored by Nightmares. Their last report had told him Meggie was staying true to her boundaries and walking around the forest idly, climbing trees and scaring the local wildlife. She had met somebody in the woods a few hours earlier- an old woman, according to the Nightmare that had been tailing her. They had talked, the old woman had shown Meggie a bundle of sticks and then they had gone their separate ways.

Currently, the Boogeyman was standing in the bedroom of a little Ukrainian girl who was living in Tunisia, just finishing up his most easterly rounds for the night and was about to head back towards the states. He made sure the girl was sleeping soundly, her nightmare of being sunburned so badly her skin peeled off and she was forced to live out her life as a bone-white skeleton eradicated, and he was about to leave when he heard a familiar twittering over behind his left shoulder.

"Who's there?" He turned and smiled as he caught sight of the little Tooth Fairy buzzing not three feet away. "Oh, hello little one. Out on patrol huh?"

The little Tooth Fairy nodded and zoomed up to his face, nuzzling it gently with her soft feathery skin. She chirped something.

Pitch frowned. Even though he had made amends to the fairies and most of them treated him with a lot bigger measure of respect than they had previously, only one showed him affection like this. "I'm sorry Baby Tooth," he said as she pulled away, her hands on her hips. "I didn't recognize you! You've grown so much since I last saw you."

She raised a feathery eyebrow and chided him.

He smirked. "Ok, that's a lie. But I'm still glad to see you. How's your mother doing?"

Baby Tooth made a face and looked at him askance. He knew what that meant. _Probably better if you were with her._

"I know," Pitch told her, bowing his head guiltily. "I know and I would love to have her come down to visit in the caves-" _But that's completely impossible because I can't have her seeing Meggie and Meggie thinks I don't care about Tooth and it would just be a gigantic mess if they both were to find out!_ "-but there's just a lot going on right now and I don't want her getting in the middle of it."

Baby Tooth raised her eyebrow again and the dimples on her tiny cheeks all-but disappeared in the folds of her creamy skin.

Pitch shrugged helplessly. "There's been...flooding. Lots of flooding in the caves. April showers you know how it is. Yes I know it's only February but Jack chose to give us a light winter this year, or something." He shrugged again. "To tell you the truth it's pretty gross down there. I've had to enlist the Nightmares to carry my books out of the library before the place turns into the next library of Alexandria."

Baby Tooth nodded. She got the reference. And she understood why Pitch wouldn't want her mother down there. Fairies weren't very partial to water by nature. They drowned in it as easily as they flew in the air. Her mother was one of the only fairies in existence that had over-come their natural-born fear. But, while Toothiana had done it by using Pitch as a swim-coach, overcoming her fear in record time, Baby Tooth's her own personal fear of water in general hadn't been vanquished as of yet.

"The snow melts and suddenly it's sewer-city in my home," Pitch continued, painfully aware that he was going to pay dearly if he got caught lying. "I go through this every year it's nothing to be too concerned about. Takes a while to get everything back in order but eventually I'll be able to have her come over again."

Baby Tooth rolled her eyes. _Why don't you just ask the Guardians to help? _She twittered, having no patience for ignorance._ You've got a family now. That's what families do! They help do the work that you shouldn't have to do alone! Why do you think I put up with my sisters?_

Pitch chuckled. "I can guess what you mean. And I haven't told the Guardians because...well it's nice to have some projects to keep my mind off things. Things that the others just don't need to be bothered with. And it really is no big deal. If they are told they'll just over-react and make a big deal over nothing. And then it'll turn into a gigantic round of every year they evacuate me from my own home and waste valuable time that they could be spending doing their jobs to help fix my home. It just doesn't make sense to tell them Baby Tooth."

She nodded. _Fair enough, but you still should at least let mom know. She's been worried quite a lot for you. After you __**brushed her off yesterday**__, _the little fairy gave him a meaningful look.

Pitch winced. "Ooh, right. I really should apologize to her for that. I was...a little out of it. I hadn't slept much. Do you know where Tooth is? I should stop by and see her before heading home."

Baby Tooth nodded and replied that she was at the Tooth Palace, going over the records. A few sets of teeth had been discovered missing from the vaults and she was checking into it personally. Pitch thanked her and headed off into the night. She watched him go, waiting until she was sure he couldn't see her before heading off onto her own nocturnal mission.

_I really hope it's not actually flooded,_ Baby Tooth thought as she flew towards the Nightmare King's home. _That would suck._ Then again, it might be better for him if it was.

See, Baby Tooth wasn't stupid. She knew from the moment Pitch opened his mouth that he was hiding something. And it had to be something big, or else he wouldn't have invented such a crazy story. Flooding, in the caves? Seriously? He _had_ to be joking. Which was why she was out here in the middle of the night freezing her tail feathers off instead of cuddled up nice and warm beside her siblings in the rookery.

She made it down into the caves without issues. The Nightmares weren't guarding the place any more- and even if they were they wouldn't stop her. She was the boss's virtual step-daughter, and as such allowed to come and go when she pleased. The place wasn't flooded in the least, which instantly set Baby Tooth on-edge and made her want to explore to see if she could figure out why Pitch wanted Tooth and the others kept away from the caves.

Everything seemed to be in its proper place, aside from a few bags of food lying here and there and some dirty dishes in the sink. Baby Tooth paused, frowning. Since when did Pitch eat so much? That got her into snooping around, searching for somebody who might be living here with Pitch but she didn't find much evidence to support this conclusion until she stumbled upon an open door, half-way down the corridor that led to Pitch's room. Inside the room were clothes, various possessions scattered all around the vicinity and a general air of unkempt. Yes, somebody was definitely living here.

_Maybe it's Jack,_ she hoped fervently, picking up a piece of cloth. It was thin and attached to a piece of foamy-feeling stuff, covered in dark material. She poked it curiously. _Maybe Pitch is letting him stay here for a while because it's closer to the kids! _There was a big dip in the material and Baby Tooth buzzed back a few feet to get a better look at the mysterious garment.

She blanched.

It was a bra.

Faster than she could blink Baby Tooth darted down to the bed, grabbed the strap of the bra and zipped out of the room, lugging the garment behind her. She made for the exit. Mother would want to hear about this! Immediately! Hopefully she could get there before Pitch did and confront him, so that they could avoid breaking her mother's heart.

_I can't believe he would do this! _She thought, flying serpentine to make sure nothing was following her. _After all she's done for him, Pitch throws away her love and up and cheats on her with some harlot that wears_\- she checked the name on the tag -_Kohl's! What a two-timing back-stabbing ass-hole!_

Her face was livid. She could barely see straight. Her little hands were clenched around the fabric like tiny vises while her wings pumped furiously, trying to get her to her destination and home. Asia was hours away. Too long! But Russia was farther. Too far. Maybe Jack had a spare one, tucked away in that hoody of his. Inspiration blazed to life in her eyes and she made a sharp U-turn towards the lake. Yes, that was it! Jack could help! It was night and this was Burgess, so it was a safe bet Jack was here somewhere.

"Hey!"

Suddenly, Baby Tooth found herself being catapulted backwards as something grabbed hold of her evidence and yanked it away. Her tiny fingers lost their grip and it was a miracle she didn't slam into a tree, as there were plenty around. Instead she landed in a heap of snow.

Blinking, disoriented and very very cold, Baby Tooth wiped snow off her face and sat up, swearing in an unlady-like fashion which would've made her mother's toes curl, had she been there. The culprit was hovering a few feet away, wearing a violet hood over her face, holding the bra and looking at it incredulously.

"What in the name of Frond was this doing out here?" She murmured, looking the article up and down.

Baby Tooth could only see the darkness of her hood but her gaze burned with anger. Ignoring the cold, she erupted from the snowbank and charged at the girl, fists lifted out in front of her. For her mother's honor! Her impact on the girl was like slamming head-first into a brick wall. It was almost comical. She bounced off the girl's chest, rebounding like a rubber ball and landing yet again in a snowdrift. A shock of cold flashed through her system, reducing her to a shivering mass huddled amongst the snow.

_Oooh,_ she moaned telepathically. _This hurts!_ She was pretty sure her wings weren't broken, it would hurt much more if they were, but the cold could do just as much damage as a crash could. Fairies didn't do well in the mildest of cold climates. She was a warm-weather fairy by nature, and only Jack's presence had kept her warm in Antarctica. In temperatures like this, if she didn't get somewhere warm right now her internal functions could shut down within minutes.

Suddenly there was a rush of icy wind and a dark shadow fell over her. She shivered, knowing exactly who it was. The girl was immediately on top of her, looming like a shadow of doom, reached forward and delicately scooping her up with the snow until she rested in the palm of her hand.

It all happened so quickly. One minute she was reeling from the impact, the next she was huddled amongst fragments of snow in a gloved palm and listening to the girl speak. Her body was exhausted and she could barely move. Her little eyes blinked wet lashes as she stared up at the girl through foggy gaze.

"Hey, you OK little bird? Wait...you're not a bird. Birds don't have hands!" Baby Tooth felt her body being gently probed, turned over. And she was powerless to stop it. "What in the heck are you?"

Poor little Baby Tooth was too cold to answer and too tired to make a move. She barely managed to let out a small squeak before passing out.

Leaving Meggie with a bra in one hand, and a nearly-frozen fairy in the other.

"Well..." she murmured, looking at the little creature. She still didn't know what it was, but she could tell it was sentient by the way it spoke in soft, squeaky words. It had lamented being hurt before passing out, which she had known anyway but hearing it from the creature itself only served to strengthen her resolve to help the creature. "This is new."

It was. She had never seen anything like this in her entire life. It looked like a bird, but it had a hummingbird's wings and a long, pointy beak, humanoid hands and eyes, and a crown of feathers cresting her forehead with a single plumed golden feather sticking up above the rest.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, almost without realizing it as she gently nudged the creature onto her side, exposing her wings. They were brittle from the cold and as slim as tissue-paper. Any longer in the cold and she would be hurt beyond fixing. She needed to get it inside.

So she took it back to the caves, laying it before the fire-place on a blanket- not too close. Or it might burn away. She sat on the floor, and she waited. For hours and hours until it had finally thawed out and by the time that happened, she had almost given up. Then it started showing tiny flickers of life. Twitching, shifting. Meggie, who had been gently dozing by the fireplace, sprang back to life and immediately knelt down to peer at the little fairy who was moving just a tiny bit.

"Hey little bird thingy, you awake?" She asked, nudging it with her finger. It let out a quiet squeak but other than that, it didn't do much. Meggie had decided not to involve Pitch in this, mostly because she wasn't entirely sure what she had on her hands here. A miniature clothing thief? A bird with a weird fetish for underwire? She hadn't a clue. "Hey," she nudged it again and this time the fairy actually moved. It extended its arms and yawned tiredly, as if it had been having a light nap while she, Meggie had been feverishly worried for its safety, before rolling over and burrowing underneath her own wing.

Meggie hmphed. Well, if the little puff-ball was gonna be like that...

"Oi! Little bird thingy, wake up!" She barked, jiggling her hand. The little fairy rolled and tumbled like a marble on a track but it was certainly awake, judging by the protective squeaks and shrill keening. Meggie held her hand still and the creature sat up, holding her tiny head and twittering something that sounded like distress. "Blame yourself for that." She told it stoutly. "I was really afraid you'd frozen to death and you didn't make a peep! I thought moving you would make you more responsive."

The little bird-thingy glared up at her and replied with a sarcastic, "Peep."

Meggie rolled her eyes. "Oh stuff it you little puffball. You're just lucky I found you before the local foxes did. You know hummingbirds aren't supposed to fly in cold weather, right?" She asked as she stood and headed back to her bed where she set the little bird down before climbing onto the bed herself.

The little bird took a second to get its bearings, then sat up and crossed her legs primly and gave Meggie a duh look. _It's not like I __**meant**__ to get frozen!_ She groused. _I was trying to get back home to the Palace but got a little side-tracked. _

"I'd say more than a little." Meggie replied, folding her arms and smirking. She was still wondering how she could understand the little bird thingy. Maybe gift of languages came with the Spirit package. The bird creature glared and said something rude which made her laugh. "What were you doing way out here anyway?" She asked, posing the other question that had been burning on her lips. "If it's so bad for you to be out in the cold why didn't you just stay at your home?"

An extremely angry expression settled onto the creature's tiny face. Her cheeks flushed red and Meggie leaned back, afraid she might peck her to death! _If you must know, _she replied, giving a whole new meaning to the term cold._ I was going out on my rounds and met up with my mom's boyfriend and something didn't smell right-_

"Wait wait hold on a minute!" Meggie interrupted. Her head was spinning with information. "Rounds? What does _that_ mean?"

She shrugged._ I'm a Tooth Fairy. I go around at night collecting teeth. Me and my thousands of sisters._

Meggie felt like her head was going to explode. "Wait, there's more than one Tooth Fairy?!" THAT explained why the little bird thingy looked so familiar to her! Meggie had just dismissed the feeling of familiarity as just her mind playing tricks but no, she actually _had_ seen something like this before! That night when Pitch had let her join him for work!

The little Tooth Fairy snorted. _Of course. Did you really think it was all a one-woman show?_

"But then that means-" she stammered, practically tripping over the words in an effort to get them all out. "That means he's her…and you're his- wait…that doesn't even make any _sense!_ How are you-? No, no she said step father. _Step_. Emphasis on step. OK, that makes sense. But he still lied to me! That dirty rotten lying Boogeyman!" Meggie started pounding her palm, imagining the verbal thrashing she was going to give him when he got back.

The little fairy was watching her very closely, suspicious clouding in her multicolored eyes. _Wait…how do you know the Boogeyman_? Suddenly, the little fairy's eyes widened and she shot forward like a bullet, veering to her left. Meggie instantly pulled out of her thoughts of murder and reached out a hand to block her but the fairy was too fast. She dove underneath her hand, grabbed the thing that had gotten her attention and hooked a 180 degree turn before shooting back in front of her, waving the item angrily_. It's you!_ The little fairy trilled, glaring murderously at her. _You're the little hussy that stole Pitch away from my Mother!_ She waved the bra under her nose.

Meggie swatted at it, knowing the article from the tiny fairy's grasp. "I don't know what you're talking about! Pitch took me in after I hurt myself and we became friends! That's all!"

_I don't believe you! We're in the caves aren't we?_ The little fairy looked around. They were_. AHA! That's why he didn't want mother coming down here! Flooding my foot! He just didn't want to get caught two-timing with a little slip of a spirit like you!_

Before she knew what hit her, Meggie had her hand curled around the little fairy's feet. She struggled violently, punching Meggie's fists and flapping her wings, but still wasn't strong enough to get free.

"Now you listen to me." Meggie spoke with a deathly calm that caused the little fairy to instantly stop struggling. "I don't know why you think Pitch and I have anything more to do with each other than just being friends. I don't know why you're angry with him. All I know is that I have put that man through mental and physical hell trying to get away from him. I've attacked him, insulted him, bruised him, screamed at him, knocked him unconscious with his own nightmare sand and thrown the both of us into a shadow-plane_ and yet,_ in spite of that, he's _always_ been here for me when I need him most. When my body hurts from Changing, when I've run into a tree because I'm not paying attention, even something stupid as skinning my knee, he was there for me. I'd like you to think about that and cut him a little slack. _Alright?_"

She gave a little squeeze for emphasis and the fairy gulped. _You're... crushing my legs._

The intensity instantly vanished from Meggie's eyes and she let the fairy go. "Oh, sorry." She landed on the bed with a light thunk and lay there, staring thoughtfully up at her. Meggie watched her hopefully, not entirely sure where her rush of defense on Pitch's part had come from. Maybe she cared about him a little more than she let on. She just hoped that the little fairy understood as well.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, the tooth fairy nodded. _You're right._

Meggie blinked. "Come again?"

_I said you're right. I wasn't thinking clearly._ She sighed and moved to a sitting position._ I was so suspicious of Pitch because of what he's done in the past that I didn't even stop to consider how much he's changed and what he's done for the world. He would never hurt my mother, I know that now. I hope he can forgive me. _She extended a tiny hand and Meggie shook it with a single finger. _I hope you can forgive me too. I accused you based on nothing and for that I'm very sorry._

Meggie nodded, still a little confused by the rapid turn of events. "It's OK…" She replied quietly. "You were only doing what you thought was right."

The Tooth Fairy nodded thoughtfully. _Yes, which begs the question: did Pitch think he was doing that when he didn't tell my mother about you?_

Meggie could only shrug. "I don't know. I don't know why he wouldn't tell her about me. I saw her once, but when I did he acted like he didn't even recognize her."

_You saw them that night?_

"Yeah. I was helping him with his rounds. He acted like she was a total stranger to him. Do you think that was because of me?

She shrugged in reply. _I'm sure I don't know what goes on in that man's mind. I know he has his reasons for doing things, like helping you. But if he doesn't think that telling mother is a good idea, maybe it's best to just wait it out and see why._

Meggie didn't really have an answer to that, so she just shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." A slightly awkward silence settled between them which Meggie swiftly tried to fend off with almost as awkward small-talk. Awkward silences were the worst. "So, do you have a name? I feel kinda rude just calling you fairy."

The little fairy smiled and stuck out her hand. _The name's Baby Tooth. And don't worry, fairy is just fine by me. Only close friends refer to each other by species name._

"Meggie."Meggie shook her little hand for the second time, smiling. "So...we're friends now?"

Baby Tooth shrugged._ Well I don't know what else you would call us. Maybe sisters, since Pitch has seemingly adopted you? _A little smile crept on her face and Meggie laughed.

"Sisters. That sounds about right. Seems like I'm gaining more and more family from this crazy spirit world the longer I stay here."

_What kind of spirit are you anyway?_ Baby Tooth asked, seizing on the opportunity to learn a bit more about this girl that just might be a new member of the Guardian family. _I've never seen one like you before. _

Meggie shrugged. "To be honest, I don't know." She told the little fairy as much about herself as she knew, starting from the lack of memories and ending with her sudden throng of believers. Baby Tooth listened intently, interrupting very seldom and only then to ask clarifying questions. "So here I am." she finished, shrugging. "Stuck in an underground home, talking to a Tooth Fairy. Sounds like a chapter from _Alice Through the Looking Glass._"

_It really does,_ Baby Tooth admitted._ You seem to have an affinity for books. And since your newfound ability to book-jump seems to be limited to one specific book, maybe that will give you some clues to what your center is._

Meggie frowned, unfamiliar with the term. "My what?"

_Your center. The reason you do what you do. _She clarified.

"_I _still don't know what I do!"

_Be patient, _Baby Tooth advised._ You'll find out. I know spirits who took decades to learn what their centers are. Believe me, you have the time. Spirits are allowed to remain on this plane of existence as long as they are needed. _

Meggie snorted derisively. "Who needs me? I'm just some weird shape-shifter that seems to excel in getting into trouble!"

Baby Tooth smirked. _You'd be surprised how many spirits started out like that. You learn as you go. That's part of the gig. But you don't have to do it alone. You've got Pitch, and maybe others if you want to branch out into a bigger family. _

"Hehe. Yeah, that'll be the day." She chuckled, then glanced up at the sky through her window. "Hey, it's getting late. Do you want to stay here for the night? It's still a little cold out there."

The little fairy shook her head. _No, I've got to get back home or my mother will be worried about me. Thank you for the offer though. _She buzzed upwards until her little crown just barely brushed the opening where Meggie's tunnel-window was. _It was nice meeting you Meggie. Good luck with...everything._

"Wait!" Suddenly Meggie was feeling very anxious. Baby Tooth paused and turned back, looking expectantly. "What are we going to do about your mother and Pitch? I can't just let them keep ignoring each other for my sake."

_Don't worry, I've already got that figured out. _Baby Tooth soothed._ I'll let something slip when I get back and see if we can't set a meeting up between you and her and Pitch so that this can all get out in the open. _

Meggie's face drained. "You...ah...won't mention the bra incident, will you?" She asked hopefully.

Baby Tooth gave her an absolutely evil smirk. _I might and I might not. It'll be excellent blackmail material for the future if we do end up being family._ With that, the tiny bird-girl turned her tail-feathers and vanished out into the caves. Leaving Meggie, once again, in a state of emotional turmoil. And the only good cure she knew for that was to go to sleep.

So she did. And dreamed of sticks with wings and gigantic flying books that spouted green goo which chased her around a massive library. Onyx _might_ be to blame for that.


	19. Two-toned Tooth

**Hey guys, guess what?! I'm back! And a lot sooner than I thought too! Here it is, after quite a long time of editing and revising, hot off the presses and ready for your reading. I'm still working on the next chapter of somebody that we used to know, but I'm getting there! **

**For now, here ya go!**

* * *

Tooth was never one for slacking on the job. Laziness was not in her repertoire and sloth was a thing she constantly battled every day. That being said, in her current state it was a little understandable that she abandoned her usual qualms in favor of taking a nap. More than a little, in fact. Considering that the man which she had scarified much more than her life for and loved more than anything was treating her like a total stranger.

Tooth had returned that night to her Palace, eyes awash with tears and her heart aching. Her daughters instinctively knew something was wrong and had given her a wide birth, allowing her time to recover alone in her training room. Only Baby Tooth, upon learning of what had transpired, was brave enough to visit and comfort her mother.

The little Fairy had been gone that particular day and the instant she was spotted flying through the opening in the ceiling she was bombarded by swarms of her sisters, each talking so fast it was impossible to gather any coherent words other than detached fragments.

_You've got to-_

_Mom!_

_She's gone off the-_

_-help her! We can't get in the-_

_Please do something!_

They were flying around her like a hurricane. A violent, disjointed hurricane of words and buzzing wings. It was over-whelming, especially when you've been on an over-seas assignment for the last three days. Baby Tooth had to emit an ear-piercing whistle to shut them all up before she was able to finally ascertain the situation. She learned that, for some reason as unbeknownst to the others, her Mother had come home crying and was now locked in the training room where all they could hear were angry screams and the splintering of wood.

_I'll go check on her, _Baby Tooth promised. _Now all of you, get back to work! We can't afford to have this place slowing down at all! Mom loses at least ten believers a day because we don't get to them in time. We cannot let that keep happening, do you all understand?!_

They squeaked an affirmative before zooming off back to their posts to work and, of course, to gossip about what was going on. The general consensus by the time Baby Tooth left was that it had something to do with Pitch. What else could reduce her to tears like this?

After making absolutely sure that the fairies were on their jobs, Baby Tooth headed to the training room. She found her mother there, beating up a defenseless dummy with her fists which had been wrapped in fighting cloths. Her face was streaked with tears and blotchy pink discolored her usual pale skin. She was half screaming, half-sobbing in a kind of anguished rage that could _not_ be trivial.

"You said you loved me!" She roared, pummeling the dummy. "I gave you everything I had! I nearly _died_ for you and just when I think you- you've come back to me, no! You're still hung up on a _dead girl!_" Tooth hauled off and delivered a fierce kick to the 'groin' of the dummy, then suddenly all anger melted away and Baby Tooth's heart nearly melted. "I miss her too," she whispered, looking into the eyes of the dummy as if they were her boyfriend's. "I've told you this again and again, but you don't hear it!" Then the anger was back. "Because you don't want to!" And she started rage-hitting the poor dummy again.

It was a miracle she hadn't reduced the poor thing to threads and stuffing already. _Mother,_ Baby Tooth said tentatively, hovering in the open doorway. It hadn't been locked. The other fairies were just too small to turn the knob.

Tooth froze. She had been getting ready to punch the dummy again and her fist wavered in the air but she didn't turn around. "Baby Tooth?"

The little fairy flew over to her, making sure to keep a healthy distance, should she get mad. Tooth wasn't the abusive sort of mother, but she did have a fierce temper when she wanted to. _I heard from the girls that something's happened. I'm guessing Pitch is being his usual selfish self._

She sniffed. "Yes, but it's more than that Baby Tooth. He literally blew me off when I asked him to come over. I felt like a teenager on one of Eros's drama shows! It was humiliating! And he didn't even have a decent excuse! He's just so obsessed with Abby, even though she's dead, that he would _lie_ to me and make up phony excuses, rather than let me in." And with that she collapsed in a fit of tears.

Baby Tooth just sighed and tried to make the best of the situation by being the most helpful she could in the lonely nights that followed, handing her mother tissues and listening to her wail and lament. Of course she didn't actually agree or condone Tooth's paranoid ramblings; that would be counter-productive.

_Pitch loves you mother, _she told her repeatedly, as if it were a mantra. _He loves you and he must've had a good reason, whatever it was, for treating you like he did and for not talking to you afterwards._

"B-but _why?_" Tooth wailed, burying her face in her duvan pillows. Raw with pain she might be, but she was still over-dramatic. Lying on her cloth mat with one arm theatrically thrown out in a pique of despair. "Why would he? What reason could be _so important_ that he would put it before his love for me?"

Baby Tooth sighed. She had been asking herself that exact same question this entire time.

It took a lot of coaxing and kind words of reassurance, some warm blankets, loads of chocolate ice cream and almost the entire store of hibiscus nectar to get Tooth back up and running. But it had to be done and there was a lot of cheering and smiles at the Palace when Tooth finally did emerged from her training room. Baby Tooth trailed behind her, looking proud. Tooth smiled shyly back at her girls who stopped everything to give her hugs and words of encouragement.

"Thanks girls, yes yes I'm alright." She assured them. "Go back to your jobs and I'll catch up later tonight with all of you. OK?" They chittered and protested but she waved them off. "Go on, get back to work!"

The fairies grumbled amongst themselves for a few seconds, then dispersed, leaving Tooth and Baby Tooth to attend to their respective duties. Baby Tooth waited until the cloud of fairies had completely broken off before turning to her mother.

_Are you OK? _Goodness knows she had asked that question more times than she had thought possible over the last few days but it still felt right to ask her one last time.

Tooth nodded. She was still feeling a little woozy from that sixth shot of nectar but at least the pain was gone. For the moment. "I'm fine, Baby Tooth. Just fine. You don't have to worry about me any more. Just go do what you need to do and I'll make sure things keep running smoothly around here."

Baby Tooth nodded and headed out for her regularly scheduled patrol, which she had been neglecting in favor of taking care of her depressed mother, leaving Tooth alone for the the first time since all this had happened but for the crowd of sisters bustling around, doing their jobs.

The first thing Tooth did was take a quick tour of the Palace, and my quite I mean slowly revolve around 360 degrees in the same position, looking for signs of disaster. When she was satisfied none were apparent, she headed back up to her main living quarters and decided to take a nap. Continually lamenting was an exhausting way to spend your time, even though she had effectively cried herself to sleep plenty of times during the last two days.

When Baby Tooth returned, a party was held in her honor and for the first time in most of their lives, the Tooth Fairies got drunk as skunks on their best nectar. Baby Tooth, in particular seemed to have a wanton need to become intoxicated when she returned from her nightly rounds, haggered and exhausted as she was. Her sisters noticed this and they asked her what had happened, as well as what had happened while she had been cooped up with her mother in the training room, but Baby Tooth's answers had been vague replies that usually consisted of "Had a rough night." or "Met someone new." Answers which instantly raised suspicion with the sisters but they got nothing else out of her.

Tooth herself didn't notice the liberal attitude of her favorite daughter until the next morning when she woke up and found her rummaging through her tea cabinet for some soothing non-sweet herbs to help with the mild hangover she had sustained the night before.

"Regretting that sixteenth thimble of nectar?" Tooth asked teasingly, flying up to the correct shelf and picking out the right remedy.

Baby Tooth scowled, holding her head in her tiny hands. _Don't mock me mother._ She grumbled halfheartedly. _It's not my fault this family has more secrets than a game of clue and your boyfriend's adopting street-waifs. I'm just expected to deal with the messy emotional clean-up._

Tooth frowned, wondering if she had misheard. Thoughts were often fuzzy after a night of drinking. "What was that Baby Tooth?"

Baby Tooth froze and a look of deep regret passed over her small face. _Uh...nuthin'._

"Don't you try that with me Baby Tooth." Tooth said sternly, wheeling around to face her tiny daughter. "I heard you say something about Pitch and though gods above I want to strangle him right now, I'm still his girlfriend for better or for worse. Now what... did... you... _say?_"

Baby Tooth glanced at the door, wondering if she could make a run for it.

Tooth followed her gaze. "Don't even think about it."

The little fairy winced. She'd been caught. And a hell of a lot earlier than she planned on to boot. I'm never drinking again, she promised herself. Meggie's going to kill me. _I said... _she began, trying to think very _very _carefully._ That I saw Pitch last night._

Tooth frowned. "You did?" That was positively _not_ what she had said but Tooth was curious in spite of herself.

_Yep. I gave him a piece of my mind, telling him he had no right to be treating you like this and that he needs to own up to it big time. He told me he knew that and was fulling intending on apologizing to you. HE actually said something about wanting to visit for some time but there was flooding in his caves that he needed to take care of before he allowed you to come back down there._

Tooth raised an eyebrow. "Flooding? Really?"

_That's what he said! Something about April showers or whatever. That's also why he wasn't too keen on leaving the caves because of how bad it's gotten down there. _She replied, shrugging.

Tooth snorted in disbelief. "It's always something. New Nightmares, flooding, whathaveyou. Well I've had enough! I don't care if it is flooded I'm going down there!"

Baby Tooth quickly buzzed after her mother, trying to make the best of the situation and 'appeal' to her common sense. _Umm, that might not be the best idea mother. I mean sure he was acting a little shady, but that's just in his nature. What if it is actually flooded?_

Tooth smiled determinedly. "Well, then I guess I'll have to risk getting a little wet."

OK, now Baby Tooth was getting worried. What would happen if she met Meggie down in those caves, angry and scared? Would she listen to the girl, or would she go off on the both of them with a violent tangent that might end in someone getting hurt? _Mom, hey mom, slow down! What if what you find down there isn't something you expect? What're you going to do then, huh? What will you say to Pitch?_

Tooth sighed, coming to a halt and revolving to face her youngest daughter. She looked ancient at that moment that Baby Tooth almost felt guilty for telling her, but for the fact that this needed to be brought to light. Not necessarily this soon, but sooner was always better than never. "I'm so sick of this Baby Tooth. _Sick_ of secrets." She said, blinking back exhaustion from her eyes. "What kind of girlfriend would I be if I just let this go and moved on like nothing happened?"

The answer was easy. She wouldn't be a good one. Alright, she conceded, nodding. _Go. But be careful mother. You don't know what you might find down there._

Tooth smiled. "I will sweety, don't worry." And then she left. Baby Tooth watched her go, smiling softly.

Worrying was the one thing she couldn't help doing.

XXXXXXXXX

For all my inconsistencies, I choose to keep most of my promises. As soon as I woke up from the void of blackness others call sleep I, got dressed and had something to eat, then made my way up to the surface and headed off to Jamie's house. Pitch didn't contest my right to leave when he found me packing a light lunch in the kitchen. In fact, he seemed to be fairly happy with the idea.

"As long as you let me know beforehand so that I can find you," he told me, smiling. "You are free to roam around as much as you want. Though I would counsel you not to go flying over any open water without me being there."

I saluted in affirmation and, once I dropped back by my room to pick up my books, I was on my way to the Bennett household.

As soon as I set foot outside, I felt the warm wash of spring and the scent of budding flowers, thick with frost. The air was cold, but the sun was shining and the sky was as blue as robin's eggs. I inhaled and exhausted in the fresh air, lifting my arms up to bathe in the sunlight. Even a few hours was getting to be too long underground for me. I needed to spend some time above-ground before the darkness drove me crazy. Which meant this little trip would be the perfect thing for me.

_It's like Pitch said, I guess. The Aether will provide._

I decided to walk, not fly, to the Bennett house. It was a good walk and I needed to stretch my legs a bit. Humans were bustling about in their smoke-spewing gigantic metal shells, zooming down the roads at breakneck speed while pedestrians moseyed at a snail's pace down the street.

_Humans are such an extremist species, _I reflected as I crossed the street, paying no mind to the cars which faded through me as easily as water through a sieve._ Fast or slow, young or old. They don't like to be in the middle about things. Odd._

The Bennett house was almost a block and a half away from where I was now. Since I didn't want to use the front door, I decided to fly the rest of the way and landed on the inside of his windowsill within a few minutes.

Jamie was still there, hunched over his desk with a scatterence of colored pencils and a minefield of crumbled papers littered around his chair. Being a total troll, I made my way silently over to him and leaned as close to his ear as I could without alerting him to my presence. "Boo!"

He fell out of his chair. I fell to the floor cackling with glee. Pitch would've been so proud. "AHAHAHAHA! Oh my goodness Jamie you should've seen your FACE!"

Jamie, who had pretty much guessed it was me form the voice, had his hand over his heart and was clearly startled but he also had a smile on his lips. "Meggie!" He cried, his chest heaving. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

I cackled even louder. "If I didn't know any better Jamie," I teased, standing and helping the young boy to his feet. "I'd say you enjoyed that scaring."

Jamie dusted himself off with as much dignity as he could muster. "Just because I like thrillers _does not_ mean I like to have the crap scared out of me when I'm alone and trying to work!" He told me in what I took to be an attempt at reproval but the whole effect was totally spoiled by the smile still snaking around his lips.

"Uh huh. Sure kiddo." I sat down on his bed, smirking. "So, you said something about having more ideas? About me and what I am?" I waved my hand at the room. "Well, here I am."

Jamie nodded and sat back down in his desk-chair. "Here you are." He agreed. "You know, I actually didn't think you would come back."

I frowned. "I said I would..." Damn that note of reproachfulness. But seriously, where did I get off as being the one not to keep promises?

"I know, I know," Jamie said quickly, raising his hands. "And don't think in any way that I'm judging you or trying to say something bad, 'cuz I'm really not! You just seem..." he trailed off hesitantly.

I sighed. "I seem the type of person to run off without so much as a by-your-leave." I finished for him, nodding. "Fair enough Jamie. I used to be that way, you're right. But I'm slowly getting to understand that you don't have to act like that all the time. Thank you for your honesty."

Jamie ducked his head, still a little embarrassed and murmured a 'you're welcome.' I smiled.

"So, just what have you been able to find out about me in the short time we've talked?" I asked, pretty eager to hear what he had to say. Any source of knowledge was good enough for me. "You seemed like you really wanted to tell me last night."

His attitude towards me changed faster than a model on the runway. "Oh, right! Yeah, I do have a few questions. Mostly about the restraints of your powers and about that book you showed us."

"You mean this book?" I brought it out and Jamie leaped at the chance to pick it up. He held the covers reverently, scanning the blank pages. "Still blank," he commented, turning the pages gently. "Do you know if it works just for you or have you let somebody else try to jump through it?"

"I did, but it didn't work. He read it aloud but he didn't disappear like I did and the book didn't glow."

"Hmm," Jamie turned back to the book. "Gulliver's Travels." He told the book clearly, then waited. The book remained dead and totally devoid of light. "Here, you try it." Jamie offered the book to me and I repeated the title, though I hadn't had the occasion to read it before. The book instantly began to hum as the words appeared, scrawled across the creamy pages before jumbling together and re-framing themselves until the first pages of the book Gulliver's Travels lay there before me.

"Interesting," Jamie murmured. "So it only works for you."

"Apparently." I turned the pages gently, afraid that merely touching the book might lure me into its pages. "Should I..." I glanced at the boy. "I dunno, try to read it?"

Jamie shrugged. "If you want to run the risk of ending up tied down by a bunch of little people then be my guest." He told me, smirking.

"I'll pass, thanks." I shut the book. "So, now that that's settled, what about my other powers?"

Jamie raised a hand, asking me to be quiet. "I'm still trying to process the fact that there's a new spirit here, in my room, with a magic book that only she can read. Give me a few minutes please?" He asked appealingly.

The boy was right. I wasn't going to get any answers out of rushing him. "Sorry Jamie."

"It's OK," he replied. Then frowned. "Though speaking about your powers, I do think I might have a way to help you there."

My attention instantly snapped back to Jamie. "What?" I asked, leaning forward like a kid at Christmas. "What is it?"

He was still frowning thoughtfully. "Well..." he said slowly. "I have a friend who might be able to help you learn more about your powers. He was...kind of depressed for the last year. Like, badly depressed." He looked meaningfully at me and I nodded. Like suicidal-depressed, he meant. "Then he did something to give him amnesia and now he doesn't remember anything about why he was depressed or much of anything in the last year."

I laughed. "Sounds like a peach of a guy."

Jamie glanced outside the window. "He was... he was really cool. He helped me and my friends in a way that nobody else ever could. And now he's just living life completely oblivious to all the pain he had to go through..."

I wasn't sure it was my place to speak at this point but I figured my opinion was better than nothing. "If you ask me Jamie..." I told him gently, standing up and walking over to the boy. I put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I think he might be better off not remembering. If he was as miserable as you say he was, then wouldn't you want what's best for him?"

Jamie was silent for a few minutes before finally hanging his head and agreeing, "You're right. I'm still being selfish about this whole thing. I didn't want him to forget because it would mean leaving the rest of us with the knowledge and somehow that seemed...unfair to me. I mean, we grieved too! We missed her, and I told him that! But he ignored me and did it anyway. And now I'm just...stuck. Here. Alone, with all this inside my head."

"You want my advice?" I was gonna give it anyway but I figured it might be nice to offer. He seemed really upset about whatever it was that had happened and I do so hate seeing kids sad.

He shrugged in halfhearted assent.

"Write about it."

The look he gave me in response was absolutely priceless. Eyes wide, confused and skeptical, but still curious. "Huh?" He asked dimly.

I smirked. "Exactly what I said. Write about it." He didn't look like he understood, so I elaborated. "It's how I keep myself sane, what with all the crazy stuff I have to deal with. It's a really good way to focus your thoughts and sort through them in the safest mental way. Seriously, no lie. You should look into it." I gave him a nudge. "It'll help."

Jamie shrugged again. "Well, I do draw. A bit. And that helps. Some..."

"Really?" Now that _was_ a lifeline. "Let's see them then." I got up and walked over to his desk but Jamie hastily stood, shielding the drawings from my view.

"They're not uh…that is… I don't really feel…" he stammered, vainly trying to some up with an excuse to not show me his work but I smoothly side-stepped the kid and scooped up the pile of papers before dancing away, waving them teasingly.

"Oh come on Meggie that's not fair!" Jamie whined, following me and trying to snatch the papers back but I dangled them just out of his reach. "Give them back!"

"Not until I've had a look at them," I told him, putting one hand on his fore-head to keep him at a distance while the other flipped through the booklet of pages. Nearly all the pictures were drawn in some form of crayon or colored pencil, but even so they were beautiful. Images of sled rides with the other kids and a white-haired figure in the back-ground, of the kids riding on gigantic stony-looking egg-shaped creatures beneath a night sky, and even a few of people I didn't recognize. But still, Jamie's attention to detail was almost rival to my own and, when I'd finished looking at them, I handed them back. "Those are very good Jamie. You've got talent. Don't squander it."

Jamie took the pages back, grumbling a thank you as he shuffled the paged back into order. I retired back to the bed and sat, scanning the other images the boy had tacked up all around his room.

After a few minutes of awkward silence I asked, "Out of curiosity, who were the people in those drawings?"

Jamie's shoulders tensed. "Other spirits." He answered ambiguously.

I raised an eyebrow. "Other spirits?"

"Just…ones that I've met. I'm not very happy with them at the moment."

Now this was getting interesting. Pitch had said that I could use any information I got about spirits to keep myself alive in this strange, magical world. And I was eager to listen. "Oh?" I asked innocently. "And why is that?"

Jamie took a deep breath and I marveled at how one kid had to deal with so much. He seemed perfectly fine just a few minutes ago but…ever since he mentioned that friend of his- who was undoubtedly a spirit, he'd seemed more down in the dumps. "You remember that friend I told you about?"

I nodded.

"Well…his family tried to help him get past what happened. They tried for half a year. His girlfriend got very sick because she was trying to spend more time with him and bring him out of it but nothing worked so they just…gave up. I never gave up." He added, raising his head to look at me forlornly. My heart gave an unhappy twinge of guilt.

"So you're angry with them for giving up on him?" I asked, just to clarify but inadvertently I started the boy off on a whole new tangent.

"It's not just that! They've always given up on him! Every time he's tried to do something great or good they've treated him like a pariah, shoving him back in the closet and leaving him there to rot, rather than taking the time to actually talk with him!" Jamie was on his feet now, stomping back and forth across the room in a conniption fit that would have shamed any grandmother. His fists were clenched in pent-up rage and I slowly edged away on the bed, watching him carefully.

"I'm sure they had a good reason," I said slowly, watching his every move. "Family sometimes means having to make the hard decisions and sacrificing one for the good of many."

Jamie rounded on me. "Family," he said coldly, glowering at me. His fists were still clenched. "Means _nobody_ gets left behind! They left him for dead, Meggie! I can't just accept that he's happy now, knowing what they've done and-"

I was on my feet again, crossing the room until I was towering above the boy who had lost some of his gusto. "Now you listen here Jamie," I told him, pointing a finger at his nose. "I wasn't there when all this happened, I don't know any more than what you're trying to tell me. But I do know that your friend seems happy with how things have turned out from what you've told me, and that the family you've told me about seems happy too. All of that history is behind them now, forgotten in the dust. Except for you. You seem to think that just because nobody else is miserable, you need to be miserable enough for all of them." I grabbed his shoulders, looking him dead in the eyes. "But…you….don't. You're just a kid!"

His eyes were wide behind his shaggy brown bangs and he opened his mouth, but no words came out. I let go of his right shoulder but kept the one hand firmly in place as re-assurance that I wasn't mad at him. I had nothing to do with this, after all. I just hated seeing people miserable when it wasn't their fault.

"I think I know why you're acting like this," I told him, smiling. Time to put all that psychobabble of Pitch's to good use.

"Why?" Jamie croaked.

"Fear. Plain and simple."

He was giving me that 'huh?' look again. I laughed, then elaborated.

"Most people are afraid of things and for things. Being afraid for a friend is completely normal. Being afraid of a gigantic creepy spider is also completely normal, not to mention justifiable. But sometimes it's harder to be afraid for someone than of someone. Take your friend, for example." I waved a hand at the pictures on his wall. "You said that over the years, his family abandoned him again and again. Right?"

Jamie nodded uncertainly.

"If you've seen this happen time and time again and you're angry at his family for abandoning him, it's because you're afraid it'll happen one last time and he won't be able to take it. Amnesia or no amnesia." I gave the boy a hug. "It's a powerful thing to be more afraid for someone than for yourself," I told him earnestly, while simultaneously wondering when I had become Aristotle. "And that shows that you're a very caring young man Jamie, and that you'll make a wonderful family of your own one day."

Jamie accepted the hug. "Thank you," he whispered.

I pulled back and ruffled his head or already crazy brown hair. "Don't mention it kiddo." I told him. "I'm slowly getting to understand that therapy is something I'm good at giving."

We both laughed and after that, things got sooo much easier! Jamie sat back down in his computer chair and I went back to the comfy bed, and we talked for a good long while about my powers and what I might be able to do with them. The kid was positively brimming with ideas and I took the time to jot them all down in my diary in short-hand– long-hand writing is such a pain –before actually discussing them.

Jamie seemed to think that the book wasn't entirely part of my powers as a spirit. He explained to me that, after doing some research online, he'd found a few articles on Changelings that I might find interesting and absolutely none of them had anything to do with book-jumping, as I had taken to calling my new ability.

"Then what is it?" I wondered, looking at the blank book which was lying on my lap, my face screwed up in consternation as I tried to think about what might unlock this book. "Is it just a magical book?"

Jamie shrugged. "I guess so. There's plenty of myths and legends about books that pull people into its pages. Normally it absorbs them into the story but you managed to get out somehow."

"And why doesn't any once else go in when they read it?" I continued. Oh boy when you get me on a rant… "I've been experimenting with plenty of different types of people but no one that reads the book goes into it! And they all seem to see a different book! What's up with that?"

But once again the boy only had theories to placate me. "I'm sure I don't know. Maybe it registers your powers in some way and only someone like you can activate it. I've heard of books like that before too. Certain people read from books and then go in, while other stuff comes out to take their place."

"So…you're saying I'm a silvertongue?" I asked, internally wincing at my use of the word. _First Meggie, now silvertongue? Am I just part of that Inkheart book that somebody let slip out into the world?_

"I suppose so." Jamie smiled. "You know, if you don't already have a place to stay, you really should look up my friend. He would be interested in what you have to say about fear and I'm pretty sure he's got more than a few good books. Maybe he could give you some pointers. You'll probably run into him eventually, if you're gonna live around here."

"Sure. What's his name?" I had to admit, I was curious about this mysterious friend. Jamie talked about him like he had known him for eons, yet the boy couldn't be more then twelve. _Huh. Must be one of those ageless friendships. Those were the best ones._

Jamie grinned sheepishly. "Eh, he's not like you would expect. He's actually a spirit called Pitch Black. The Boogeyman. You might've seen him when you were alive, if you can remember your life before now. Some spirits don't. But he's not the bad kind of Boogeyman!" Jamie assured me in response to my face which had instantly blanched at the mention of my caretaker's name. "Well...I mean...he _was_, but that's all behind him now and he's trying to help kids over-come their fears. ...Meggie...are you alright?"

I blinked dully back at him, unsure if I was hearing things or not. Most of Jamie's sentence past 'the Boogeyman' had been reduced to so much white noise bouncing around in my brain as I tried to understand.

Jamie...Jamie knew Pitch. He was the person he had been talking about. The one who had been left for dead by his family and was now living in a happy, amnesiated state. The one who had lost someone very important to him and the one who had nearly died because of it. It was all him...

_I can't believe this... I just can't believe this! And he never told me about any of this!_

_Would you?_ That little voice inquired gently, finally speaking up for the first time since...well...since a long time. _After suffering a horrendous loss, would you divulge this information to a complete stranger? Even if you have saved her life?_

"Meggie?"

Jamie was shaking my shoulder. I blinked once, coming out of my thoughts. "Hm? Oh, sorry Jamie. I kinda spaced out there for a second."

The boy gave me a severely unimpressed look. "Um...yeah you did! What was that all about?"

I blinked again, unsure if I should tell him. He told me the truth, after all. So why not return the favor. "Actually Jamie, I already know Pitch." I told him, smiling and ignoring the totally shocked expression on his face. "Yeah...I didn't want to tell you guys last night because I wasn't entirely sure Cupcake would be OK with it. I mean I know she knows about spirits and I know you do too, but since the Boogeyman is supposed to be all scary and hairy and mean...well...I decided to sweep it under the rug and keep my current residence a secret."

Jamie threw up his hands. "Alright, that tears it!" He cried in a sort of exasperated glee. "This town officially has the most spirits living in it in the states!"

"And that's a bad thing?" I questioned. You'd think a bunch of spirits living here might keep it all safer.

"It means that sooner or later, everybody runs into everybody! Especially since half of the Guardians already live here!"

"The what?"

"The Guardians. Pitch's family." Jamie answered. "The Tooth Fairy, Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny, Jack Frost, and the Sandman. He's got another branch of family too, Kozmotis and Archaline and all that but they live way up on the moon."

I remained looking blank-faced.

Jamie frowned. "He…didn't tell you about them?" He ventured, to which I nodded.

"Nope. Well…not much anyway. He kind of just mentioned them in passing a couple of times but every time I asked him about them he told me I would meet them eventually."

Understanding slowly dawned on Jamie's face. "Ooooh, I think I let something slip." He winced. "Pitch is going to _kill_ me."

I chuckled, leaning across the bed to ruffle Jamie's hair. "Don't worry about that kiddo, I'm sure he dotes on you like his other grandkids. He wouldn't hurt a hair on your head."

Jamie shoved my hand away good-naturedly. "You didn't see him the last time Jack snuck in and froze the caves to go ice skating." He retorted. "And I'm not his grandkid. I'm his first believer. Just like Cupcake is yours."

Ahh, that made much more sense. "I kinda figured you weren't a spirit."

Jamie nodded absently, still deep in thought. His gaze was directed at his hands and when he spoke, it was more to himself than to me. "I can't help but wonder why didn't he tell you," he murmured, lacing and un-lacing his fingertips as children tend to do when they get thoughtful. "I guess because he didn't want to over-whelm you? It's pretty tough adjusting to spirit life, especially when you're not sure what kind of spirit you are." Then he looked up at me. "I'm not even sure I should be telling you this. If Pitch wanted it kept form you he must've had a reason."

I shook my head. "He did want me to meet them eventually," I insisted. "He kept babbling _on and on_ about how they would love me and I would be trained how to use my powers by the best of the best, blah blah blah." I rolled my eyes. "Honestly sometimes I think he's more interested in his powers than in me."

"Oh Meggie, that's not true!" Jamie argued. "He wouldn't have taken you in unless he thought you were a good spirit with plenty of potential for helping the world. That's what spirits do! They help the world be a better place and if you reach Guardian status, you can even protect the children through your element. That's what Pitch and his family do; they protect the children of the world. Their hopes, dreams, wonder and fun. It's what being a spirit means."

He got me there. I nodded slowly, thinking it through. So these Guardians…they were the mysterious family Pitch had used to so adamantly coerce me into staying. _No, no it was my choice._ The idea of meeting and learning about new spirits was just a bonus. The Tooth Fairy was clearly part of this family, judging by the conversation I had had last night. But what about the rest?

"So Jamie…" I began slowly, hoping that the kid wouldn't clam up. "Tell me about these Guardians. What are they like? You said something about Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny, right?"

Jamie snorted, standing up and walking over to his desk. "Not like you'd know them." He assured me when I raised an eyebrow. Jamie pulled out a packet of papers and took them back to me, spreading them on the bed for my viewing. "The Guardians have been around for…quite a while. Sandy's the oldest- except for Pitch. They grew up together- or, Sandy and Kozmotis grew up together. It's a whole big complicated deal which I'm certainly not qualified to tell you about. Anyway, so yeah there's Sandy- the Sandman." Jamie tapped one of the pictures of a short star-looking thing colored in gold. "He's really nice and doesn't talk, but he can fight really well." He laughed again. "Boy, you should've seen Sandy during the nightmare War. He kicked a load of Nightmare ass! …Until he got absorbed by Pitch and essentially killed." He added sheepishly.

My eyebrows shot up. "He _killed_ the Sandman?"

"Temporarily," Jamie assured me. "He's still alive. And more awesome than ever. Then there's Bunnymund, who I'm sure you can guess is the Easter Bunny." He slid another picture towards me and I peered at it.

"He looks like a grey Kangaroo."

Jamie chuckled. "That's what Jack calls him. Bunny is a Pookah, which is an old alien race of gigantic rabbits that traveled around space fighting and mastering spells."

I looked dubiously at the picture. "He's a samurai wizard bunny?"

"Ninja wizard bunny," Jamie corrected, shuffling the page back into the stack. "Oh, and he's also Australian. This," he handed me a drawing of what looked to be an immense bear, wearing a red over-coat with a white beard which reached down to its knees. "Is North. He's Santa Clause. But he's not an old man. He's actually kind of a big kid with a beard. He loves making toys and he's got this thing on-going with Bunny about how Christmas is better than Easter. Oh, and he's Russian."

"Of course."

"You've already met Tooth-"

"I saw her, once. I met Baby Tooth." I corrected. "But yet I know about her. She's collects teeth and gives kids money."

"Basically yeah. The last Guardian is Jack. You might know him as Jack Frost." The last picture was slid my way and I noticed that this one looked old, as if he had drawn it years ago instead of weeks. Jamie noticed my look and explained, "Jack was a really young spirit when he joined with the Guardians. Only three hundred years or so. But he's an immortal teenager so he doesn't age. Jack joined them after the Nightmare War when Pitch tried to..."

"Take over the world, yes Jamie I know." I told him, smiling. "Pitch told me."

He let out a breathy sigh of relief. "Whew, good. So yeah, Jack joined them after he helped take Pitch down and then a whole big fiasco happened, but Jack's still part of the family. He's actually Pitch's grandson, by default."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why by default?"

Again Jamie shrugged. "Something about Pitch's other half having a daughter and Mother Nature adopting Jack- I don't know. They never tell me anything anymore! All I know is, he Guardians are alright people. Sure they may be a bit stupid on occasion and make bad decisions, but I couldn't think of anyone else safer to live with."

"Weren't these the very same people you were just ranting about earlier?" I asked, somewhat puzzled by Jamie's 180 in his attitude.

Jamie nodded tiredly. "I can't hold a grudge for very long," he admitted, smiling at me. "I'm very bad at it. They did what they could and it all turned out alright in the end. Maybe this is all for the best, you being here, living with Pitch. It might help to bring them all back together again after…"

"After…?" I prompted. When was I EVER going to hear the story behind why everybody seemed so melancholy?

Jamie was silent for a few more minutes, then shook his head. "That is something I'm not qualified to tell you about Meggie. That's something the Guardians and Pitch have to tell you on their own."

I knew I wasn't gonna get anything else out of the kid, so I simply nodded and thanked him with a hug. "Thanks Jamie, for trusting me enough to tell me about Pitch's family." I told him, gently squeezing the little kid.

Jamie shrugged modestly when I pulled away. "You would've found out eventually. Everybody does in a small town like this." He happened to glance at the clock above his desk and let out a yelp. "Oh cripes. Hey Meggie, I've gotta go. I promised mom I'd watch Sophie for a few hours so that she can run errands." He grinned apologetically and I shrugged.

"That's alright kid. I'd better skedaddle too. If I don't check in with my landlord at least once a day someone's gonna be looking for me, I guarantee it."

Jamie smirked. "Oh joy, he's already over-protective of you. Wait 'till you meet the others."

I swatted at his shoulder. "Oh go on, go play. Tell the munchkin I said hi too!"

"Will do!" Jamie saluted.

I turned towards the window, readying myself for the flight home. I needed to have a talk with a certain someone. Preferably two someones. Just as I was about to crawl out onto the ledge I heard Jamie's voice from the doorway and turned back. "What, kid?"

Jamie was still smiling. "I said, don't be too hard on him. He's just trying to do what he thought was right."

I shrugged, pulling my hood over my face. "I'll try kiddo. But I want to hear what he has to say first _before_ I rip him a new one."

"Fair enough. Have fun!"

I was grinning as I leaped out of the window and went zooming across the wide expanse of street, banking left and heading straight home. Fun was _certainly_ going to be had.

XXXXXXXXX

Pitch never was one for over-protectiveness. He figured that was best left to the other Guardians to coddle their believers. Though he may not be the big bad Boogeyman of old, his power was still rooted in fear and courage and his believers tended to be the strongest of any in the spirit world because of it. Just look at Jamie. He had survived the Nightmare War, in one piece, and helped bolster the over-all strength of at least eight spirits alone!

That being said, when it came to a certain purple-haired girl, he couldn't help feeling at least a little annoyed with himself for letting her go to easily, not to mention anxious every second she was out of his sightline. In light of what had happened the last several times she's gone off on her own he really _really_ should've learned his lesson by now and locked her in her room for the rest of her existence but...that just wasn't how Pitch Black was.

He knew the value of learning on your own and how much it could benefit you in the long run. He also had faith that no one, not even her, could be _that_ pig-headed and as such she wouldn't come home with any more broken limbs or scarring from misadventures. Eventually Meggie would learn how to take better care of herself. But until then, he was stuck playing nursemaid.

Not that he minded, really. It was good to keep up on medical skills. You never knew when you might need something like that.

"Still," he murmured, turning a page in his book on rare spirits. "I would hope that she doesn't make me use them too soon."

Pitch had been relaxing on the couch in the living room for nearly four hours now, trying idly to find some new information about his resident's powers. At this point it was merely a force of habit that he pick up a book when she left, hoping to find something new that would give her a greater sense of herself and put her back into the proverbial saddle of her destiny.

So far, he wasn't succeeding. But he wasn't that upset. Time would, eventually, tell. Sometimes it took years for a spirit to fully mature into their designated powers and he fully expected that she wouldn't understand all of her limits for at least fifty years or more.

"And she's getting stronger and stronger every day." He finished his thought aloud, closing the book. He had just heard a familiar thunk near the tunnel that led to the entrance and smiled, sliding the book onto the table and standing up. "Yes, she's getting very strong. Perhaps it's time for me to start those training regiments I promised her. Meggie?" He called, cupping his hands to his lips. "Meggie, would you mind stopping in here at the kitchen for a moment? I want to ask you something."

He heard not a denial nor an affirmation. Only a slight hum in the air and the sound of footsteps. Odd. Normally she at least acknowledged him with a whine or a curse.

"Meggie?" He called again, frowning as he walked purposefully towards the tunnel entrance. "Are you alri-"

He stopped dead. Coming around the corner was in fact a woman. But it wasn't Meggie.

"Tooth…"

His girlfriend- _probably soon to be ex-girlfriend,_ he thought anxiously, watching her expression with a terror that cannot be truly described –was looking at the floor, presumably trying to keep herself from tripping over the rocks that jutted out from floor and ceiling like teeth but she looked up when he spoke her name. "Oh, there you are Pitch." She said coolly. Pitch felt a shiver go up his spine. "I was wondering if you were at home or gallivanting off somewhere with a younger spirit. Meggie, is her name then I take it?"

"It's not like that," Pitch assured her, his palms sweating like crazy. "Tooth I swear to you, it's not like that."

"Then what is it like?" She asked curiously, tilting her head to the side and regarding him with the most icy glare he had ever seen. "I get it, you've just overcome a serious mental illness and you need someone. _That_ I understand. But _lying_ to me about it?! When you could've just _told me_ you didn't want me anymore and we could have parted friends?"

_Oh Moon above…_ "No, Tooth I swear, this isn't what it looks like! I'm not-"

She laughed bitterly. She looked absolutely disgusted with him. "And you're _still_ trying to lie your way out of this! That's rich. Honestly, and it's also a little pathetic. That you would think I'm stupid enough to-"

Before he knew it, Pitch was across the room and had ahold of her arm. "Tooth stop it!" He pleaded. "I don't think you're stupid and I'm not cheating on you! Not with Meggie or anyone! Meggie is a young spirit that I took in because she needed my help, not because I don't love you anymore. I do love you, with all my heart and soul!"

"_The caves are flooded, we have new nightmares that need to be trained, I picked up some street-spirit because I care about her well-being!_" She spat at him. "_Lies_ Pitch! _All lies!_ Did you even love me at all?!"

Once again he tried to grab her by the arm but she fought back, kicking and thrashing like a wild animal. "Of course I love you!" He told her, vainly trying to calm her down but it wasn't working. This was his worst fear, some to life. "I still do! I promise that once Meggie gets here, you'll see that I'm telling the truth and that I never once touched her! I would _never_ do that to a child!"

She clearly didn't believe him. Tooth pulled her arm away, scowling. "Right, like I'm supposed to fall for _that_ one!" She scoffed.

Pitch bristled. "You would, if you wanted to save this relationship," he accused, glaring. "A _caring_ girlfriend would at least _listen_ to her partner's explanation instead of blatantly disbelieving it without any proof! You're just as bad as I am!"

The crack across the jaw came out of nowhere.

Pitch reeled back, stunned by the shock of pain and the familiar pop indicating she's knocked another one of his teeth out. His hand was on his jaw and he started to say "You hit me…" before the follow-up blow to the stomach sent him to the ground. Tooth was standing over him, looking murderous. Her lips were pulled back in a hideous snarl and when she spoke, Pitch could see eons of power reflected within that voice.

"I…have sacrificed _everything_ for you!" She roared, grabbing him by the front of his robes and swinging him across the room. Pitch's skull impacted onto the rock and a splitting headache formed at the base of his neck, but he ignored it.

"Oh yes? Did you give up being what you are?!" He shouted back, staggering to his feet. "I gave up my title, and my life for you Tooth! I was something _great_ once! Now I'm a dead-beat monster playing nursemaid to an accident prone child and a psychotic girlfriend who's accusing me of cheating!"

She swung on him again but this time he ducked and her knuckles grazed the rock. "AGH!" She screamed and Pitch chose that opportunity to sneak behind her and pin her arms. She struggled a bit more but he put pressure on her wrist- not enough to hurt her, but enough to tell her to stop, and she did.

"You know," he hissed into her ear. "I used to think you loved me because I was a charity case. Another problem for your Guardians to fix, but that's not it."

She stiffened as his voice, her body still coursing with rage but she knew how vulnerable she was. So did he. One snap and her wings would be history. "Pitch…"

"You loved me because I'm someone you can get away with pinning anything on. A scapegoat. When something goes wrong, blame the Boogeyman! Our relationship's not working out? Hmm…must be his fault and not my stubborn pig-headedness. He can't remember an entire year of his life? His problem." He sighed and let her go, drawing back to a safe distance. "I love you, Tooth," he told her, watching as she rubbed her wrist and knuckled, watching him closely. "But if you keep looking or reasons to push me away, then I don't think this can work out."

He could see that Tooth was getting slowly past the anger stage. Her thrashes were becoming less and less powerful and eventually she slumped to the floor, unable to keep fighting. Tears were welling in her eyes.

"Why Pitch?" She asked, looking up at him with the most terrified and vulnerable look on her face that Pitch had ever seen. _She's really afraid I'm going to leave her… _he thought, inhaling the scent of sharp, biter spices. "Why did you do it?"

Pitch felt the over-whelming urge to hold her close, to stroke her feathers and tell her that it was all going to be OK, but he dare not. Not at the risk of pissing her off anymore. "Look, just let me go find her." He said soothingly, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "I swear to you that once you meet her and she explains it all to you, you'll believe her and we can get past this."

Tooth hiccupped but offered no other response.

"I don't think I'm the only one who has some explaining to do." Said a cool voice from the other side of the room.

Both Pitch and Tooth looked up and saw Meggie standing there, arms folded across her chest as she looked back and forth between the two thoughtfully. And she wasn't alone. Flying just over her right shoulder was a certain little Tooth Fairy.

"B-baby Tooth!" Tooth stammered, rising to her feet with less grace than what she normally possessed. "Wha- what are you doing here?"

The little fairy had a similar glowering look to Meggie's on her tiny face and let out a few short squeaks which were actually curses and Tooth winced.

"Hey, watch your language young lady!"

Baby Tooth narrowed her eyes. _Given the circumstances mother, _she chirped coolly. _I feel it's my right to swear at the pair of you as much as I want!"_

"She's here because you both are idiots," Meggie interrupted smoothly, stepping forward. Baby Tooth followed her. "She had a feeling that once this all came out in the open you two would be at each other's throats and her dearest mother wouldn't believe Pitch's story worth a damn. So she came along to clarify and prove to you that stupid as he might be," here she shot Pitch a look that he fully deserved before turning her gaze back on Tooth and settling into a less prosecuting expression. "He's not cheating on you."

Tooth looked from Meggie to Baby Tooth, then back to Meggie. "So you're…"

"Meggie." She nodded, holding out a hand. "Nice to meet you, even if it is under the stupidest of circumstances."

Tooth crossed the room and shook it numbly, as if she still couldn't believe this all wasn't a dream. When she let go, she turned to Pitch. "This…this is her?"

Pitch nodded in affirmation. "The reason I've been stuck underground for so long and never get to see you. Technically she's the cause of all this, though I don't blame you Meggie!" He added, glancing apologetically at her.

Meggie scoffed. "Me? No way Boogerman, this is all on _you._" She raised a finger to point at Tooth. "You caused this problem, not me. I'm just stuck cleaning up after it."

Baby Tooth squeaked in agreement.

Tooth was still looking at them all dully but managed to get out, "Why…are you mad at him?"

Meggie smirked. "You're not the only one he's lied to, Tooth." She told the other woman gently. She still looked confused and Meggie sighed. "Come on, let's all sit down. I have a feeling this is gonna be a long night."

They did as she asked. Pitch and Tooth sat on the couch facing the kitchen while Meggie straddle one of the barstools, appraising them both thoughtfully. Baby Tooth reclined on the counter, kicking her little legs out over the edge and watching attentively. The couple sat at opposite ends of the couch, though Meggie could see how much they wanted to be close to each other. That was fine for now.

"When Pitch and I first met," Meggie began, slipping into the story-teller role like she was built for it, "he told me he had family but he never exactly said _who_. Of course I asked him but he refused to tell me. Then, when I saw him and you talking that night and asked him about it he lied and told me that you'd been interested in him for years and he had always said no."

Tooth shot Pitch a glare. "_Really?_"

"Don't be snippy about that Tooth, Meggie chided. "He needed a good cover-story and believe me, it worked for me. Anyway, a few nights later I ran into this little munchkin trying to steal a certain article of my clothing. She'd come to the same conclusion you did, Tooth, and was flying back to the Palace to tattle on Pitch. Then she found me and I saved her from frostbite, brought her inside, explained to her that I would never do something like that and that Pitch is waaay to old for me-"

"Hey! If we're disparaging age then you're still a baby!"

"Stuff it Boogerman. Moving on...so yes we talked it out and she promised to let Tooth in that something wasn't right down here so that this could all get out in the open. What we didn't count on was the little puff-ball getting _drunk_," she glared at Baby Tooth who rolled her eyes. "And spilling the beans so soon."

"I see," Tooth and Pitch said in unison, and they did. This little tidbit of information made things so much clearer!

"Yup. Which brings us to why we're here now." Meggie glared at both of them. "So...anything you two want to say to each other?"

The reaction she was hoping for was immediate. Pitch threw his arms around her and they both embraced tightly, babbling profuse apologies like rapid-fire and their words got so tangled that even Baby Tooth, who was used to thousands of her sisters speaking at once, could barely understand what was being said.

"Tooth please I'm so sorry for-"

"-doubting you Pitch I never meant to hurt you!"

"-know that keeping her from you was stupid but I was afraid…"

"Of losing the one person who I could trust! It's not that-"

"-we can still try to be together. Please please say you'll-"

"-I just wanted to not get hurt again. And now I feel so bad that-"

"I just want us to trust each other again!"

Then, all at once, they paused and realized that neither had understood a single thing the other has said. And, consequently, they both laughed. And they kept laughing, hugging each other out of sheer relief that the other wasn't irrevocably angry and all the while, Meggie just watched with a smile on her lips.

This was exactly what she had been hoping for. Complete openness and acceptance. She still didn't know how Tooth would feel about her, but she could always leave and find somewhere else to live. These two were meant to be together, she could see that clearly from the visible aura of radiating joy that hovered around them, making them shine in the gloom. And even though she wasn't all that keen on these so-called Guardians after what Jamie had told her, there could be worse things in the world.

_There probably are, _she thought, watching Pitch kiss his girlfriend gently on the forehead and promise her that he would never ignore her again in favor of anything or anyone._ And if they come near these two...they're fixin' for a whoopin'!_

_Good job,_ squeaked Baby Tooth from up on her shoulder. Meggie craned her head to look at the fairy but she had already disembarked from her brief perch. She was still looking a bit sheepish about the whole drunk thing but Meggie didn't bring it up. No need. _So...what happens now? _She asked uncertainly.

"Now..." The Changeling answered, turning her gaze once more to Pitch. "We start getting somewhere."

There was something very ominous about the way the human said that, Baby Tooth noted, feeling her feathers ruffle slightly from a non-existent breeze. She had something else up her sleeve. Another card to play. One that would trump all others. Or, at least, she seemed to hope it would.

In reality, Meggie was just hoping to get some more info out of the Boogeyman, regarding some of the things Jamie had told her. Her curiosity was peaked but she didn't wan to rush head-long into a gigantic army of a family who might despise her on sight and run her away just like they had Pitch.

_Lets start with this one,_ she thought, eyeing Tooth who had finally broken away and was looking hopefully at her. _And see where it takes us._

The Tooth Fairy cleared her throat. "I...want to apologize to you as well Meggie." She said, certainly looking repentant. "It was very stupid and rude of me to accuse you of absolutely anything without having all the facts."

_Hmm...should I be honest? Or tactful? _

"Bullshit." _Tactful it is then. _

Tooth blinked. "Pardon me?"

"You had plenty of facts Tooth. And all of them were sufficient to give you plenty of good reason to think Pitch cheated on you." Tooth remained looking confused until she continued. "What was _NOT_ OK was how you went about resolving the situation. You didn't try to verify it, you didn't talk to him about it, you didn't come looking for me. You stormed in here like a hurricane and nearly broke each others' skulls in! I know you're spirits but that gives NEITHER of you the right to beat on the other!" She paused and glared between the two of them. "_Understand me?_"

They exchanged unsure glances, looking at her as if _she_ was the crazy one.

"What?" Meggie demanded. "Am I insane for wanting to keep two good people from hurting each other? Yeah you did stupid shit but I'm not gonna let you both ruin your lives because of it!" She didn't realize how important this was to her until now but as she spoke, she started to feel humming behind her eyes which only ever occurred when she was going through a particularly strong change or really _really_ angry. "You need to stick together! Both of you. You said that she was your family and you need to treat each other like family!"

Pitch was standing up. "Meggie, calm down." He said gently, raising a hand towards her shoulder. Something was happening, and he wasn't sure what. Her eyes were intensely glowing and he could tell by her body-language that she was severely upset. _Best try and calm her down quickly, before something happens_. "We understand. We would never hurt each other like that. It was just a serious argument."

Tooth nodded, looking very concerned. "That's right. We do love each other and you're right, we do need to get better at communicating. We're still a little new at this whole relationship thing and-"

"Then do it!" Meggie shouted, on her feet before she could tell what was happening. Her pulse was pounding in her ears and the humming was getting louder but she just kept shouting. The tantalizing trickle of white-fire was beginning to slowly drip through her veins, igniting her flesh but the others could neither see nor feel it. Except for one.

Baby Tooth could feel the heat coming off of Meggie in gentle waves, like a sauna and she slowly started backing away. _Mom... _she said uncertainly. _Something's wrong!_

Tooth was thinking the exact same thing. Both of them were, in fact. The more Meggie spoke the brighter her dark green eyes seemed to become until they were illuminating the entire space in front of her, casting an eerie green cadence over everything. "We were," she said slowly. "We are. You don't need to worry about us any more. Pitch, does she do this often?"

"No," Pitch answered quietly. "She doesn't. Meggie, something's wrong. You need to calm down. OK? Just listen to us. We're both fine. It's you we're worried about now."

"STOP TALKING ABOUT ME LIKE I'M NOT HERE!" Meggie screamed and, though she couldn't see it, a small isolated patch of flames erupted on her shoulder and seemed to grow the angrier she got. "Don't you see?! The _possibility_ is there!" She insisted, gesturing wildly with her hand at the two of them. "I just saw it with my own two eyes! And if the possibility of hurting each other is there then you two will never be really safe together!"

OK, now things were starting to get scary. Pitch wasn't sure what to do but it was clear that either Meggie needed to calm down really fast, or she needed to be knocked out to save them all from death by magically emotion-fire. Pitch chose the latter option, shooting a bolt of nightmare sand at her which he expected her to dodge and followed up with a second bolt. Following his logic, she dove to the right but the second bolt of sand missed her by inches.

"Meggie," Tooth pleaded, very distressed by the situation. If somebody had told her when she left the Palace this was what she was going to find... _Wait...didn't Baby Tooth warn me about something like this? Crap._ Still, she'd best give it a shot. "Meggie please, it's alright! Neither of us are going to hurt each other and-"

But Meggie wasn't listening. Phantom images had started to flit across her vision, distracting her from reality. She clutched at her eyes, murmuring insistently, "No...no...go away! Please just go!"

"We're not going to leave you Meggie," Tooth told her seriously before she realized that she wasn't talking to her. Her mother instincts were kicking in and somehow she managed to approach the grief-stricken young spirit. Tooth's hands went on her shoulders and she realized that the girl was shaking. "Meggie- Meggie! Meggie, look at me please."

Meggie lowered her hands to just below eye-level. They were still glowing bright green but Tooth could see watery blue seeping in around the edges. Her hair was slowly reverting to the same color and she guessed that this must be a side-effect of being a Changeling.

Tooth took a deep breath before speaking, steeling her nerves. "You need to relax and calm down. Getting angry is exactly what we both deserve for being so stupid and acting like we did but don't take measures into your own hands if it means getting hurt in the process. Alright? Do you understand me?"

Meggie nodded slowly and as she did so, her hair faded from deep blue to an almost black. Tooth put her arms around her and hugged her gently. "Thank you..." she whispered.

"That's alright dear," Tooth assured her as she pulled away. "We _all_ have bad days."

"No...you don't understand..." She said, looking at Pitch for support. She was still shaking, Tooth noted. "I don't...do that. I don't even know what that was! I've never...done that before."

Pitch stepped forward and put a comforting arm on her shoulder. "If you need to rest a little sweetheart-"

"No!" Meggie snapped, flinching. Tooth watched her carefully, noting that her body language was now more skittish than anything. Meggie took a few deep breaths and said again, "No...I just need to sit down for a second." Her chest was heaving and even though spirits didn't need to breathe, Tooth could swear she felt breath escaping her throat. Then, just as suddenly as her manic state had been brought on, Meggie fell to the ground in a crumpled heap at Tooth's feet.

Tooth tried to catch her, she really did. But it all happened so fast that Tooth barely had time to register what was going on and the instant she did, she was kneeling at the child's side and tryning to shake her back to consciousness

"Meggie! Meggie! Oh please no Meggie please wake up! Pitch, Pitch is she alright?!" Her protective mother-side was at it again. Baby Tooth was sitting next to Meggie's right ear, frantically chirping the same message her mother was giving.

Pitch crossed the room and lifted Meggie' head just enough to feel for a bump. "She's just unconscious," he reported after a few minutes. "No internal damage as I can tell. But she's severely exhausted. That...whatever she did, took a lot out of her. She needs to rest. And lots of it."

And so saying he scooped her up bridal-style and carried her to her room. Tooth followed him and lingered in the doorway, watching Pitch carefully lay her on the bed and cover her up. She had never seen Pitch like this before. Concerned yes, caring yes, compassionate yes, but not to this degree. This went far beyond partner's love or even the love of a family-member. This was a father's love. It made her smile when he pulled away and gazed fondly at her.

"There now. Now she'll sleep soundly." He murmured, moving a single strand of dark purple hair away from her closed eye and placing it tenderly back behind her ear.

"I'm sure she will." Tooth said, slightly startling Pitch. Evidently he had forgotten she was there because he jumped at least a few inches. He turned walked over to her, backing her out of the doorway and pulling the door shut behind him. As soon as the lock clicked, he put his arms around her and kissed her.

"I'm sorry about earlier..." Pitch murmured quietly, running a hand over Tooth's feathers. Gods he had missed their shine. "I thought she was over her anger."

Tooth shook her head, the crown of feathers just barely tickling Pitch's shin. In truth, she had missed this just as much. "You have nothing to apologize for Pitch. It's quite admirable, what you're doing for her. And she wasn't angry at us. I could see it in her eyes. She was angry at the _idea_ of what we did which I agree was stupid, but it didn't warrant... that." She finished, shrugging.

"No...you're right. It didn't." He sighed, pulling away and Tooth was disappointed to see a melancholy took traipsing over his dark features. "Still... I'm sorry."

Tooth rolled her eyes and kissed him again. "I have things to be sorry for too you know," she said after pulling her lips away. "For doubting you, for fearing you, for all the stupid mistakes and accusations I've made. I'm sorry. I feel just awful for thinking you would do something like that. You were right."

Pitch wrapped his long arms around her said soothingly, "There's nothing to be sorry for. I deserved all of it and more. But Meggie was right. We should just let the past be the past and look forward to the future."

"I agree." They kissed once more. Short and sweet. A reminder. "She's really something, that girl of yours." Tooth told him when they pulled apart after a few seconds. "I've never seen anything like that before! Her clothes weren't burned, or her hair, but her whole body radiated heat like a volcano ready to erupt. It was amazing."

"I've never seen her like that before either!" Pitch admitted, pretty amazed himself. "I know she doesn't have her memories, that sometimes emotions are connected to our powers and that I've seen her do some pretty terrifying things before, but I never thought she was _so strong._ I'm just happy she didn't hurt someone or herself."

"Well... you knew it wouldn't be easy when you took her in." She told him reproachfully, reciting some good words of advice her mother had given her a long time ago when she had stated that she wanted children. "You've signed on for a crazy difficult job Pitch, not to mention exhausting. It's hard work helping a young spirit find their way in the world. It's just like raising a child. Sometime's there's good, sometimes there's bad but until the child is totally accepting of themselves, it's your duty to keep them happy and safe.

Pitch raised an eyebrow. "So...what would you say that was?" He gestured to the door behind which Meggie slept.

Tooth shrugged and took his hand, squeezing it to let him know that she was here for him as she replied, "Just another minor bump in the road."

Both he and Tooth stayed by her side infrequently throughout the rest of the day, checking on her to make sure she wasn't in some sort of coma. Her features remained fairly stable throughout the nfew hours until the sun set, apart from slight variations in the tone of her hair. Tooth noticed several times that it switched from bright purple to dark, to an almost indigo and then bright again. The second time this happened, she called Pitch who had been tidying up from the aftermath to come and take a look.

He watched it for a moment, then sighed tiredly. "It's her emotions again," he told Tooth, pulling back a strand of multi-colored hair. "Look at her face."

Tooth looked and saw that every time Meggie frowned a little in her sleep, her hair went dark. Every time the frown faded into relaxed blankness the hair turned brighter. "Fascinating..." she murmured, twisting a strand of the hair around her fingertips. "Has she always done this?"

Pitch shrugged. "Not this specifically. I've seen her hair change color with her mood."

"I have too."

"But this is a little different I think. It's less out of mood and more as a response to something internal hurting her."

"Bad memories?"

"She doesn't remember anything beyond becoming a spirit, and all the bad memories she's had thus far are most likely or my orchestration."

Tooth noted the guilty way he said that and put an arm around him. "Pitch, you can't blame yourself for all her problems! She's a new spirit in a strange world; she's gonna have trouble adjusting. All you can do it help make sure the process is as smooth as possible for her. No one can keep everyone from the world's terrors. Speaking of which, aren't you supposed to be out working right now?"

Pitch sighed, running his hands through his hair. Ugh, work. Not what he wanted to do right now but he had to put his job first. "You're right, as always." He murmured, holding her tightly. Sometimes just the simplest gestures meant the world to him. "Thank you Tooth. I don't know what I would ever do without you." He murmured into her shoulder.

Tooth smiled and rubbed his back gently, knowing how stressed he was about this whole situation. "You're welcome Pitch. Now, I'll stay here with her until your rounds are finished. She should be awake by then when you get back we'll go from there."

Pitch nodded, accepting the makeshift deal but for some reason he was a little anxious to leave her alone with Tooth. Not that he thought Tooth would hurt Meggie, or visa versa, but... oh he didn't know. Something just didn't feel right. "Are you sure you can handle it? She's...ah... a little problematic, even when she's sleeping. I could tell the Nightmares to take the night."

But Tooth wasn't having any of it. "No, you should get out of the caves for a little while. It'll do you good. You can't just devote yourself to her well-being and disregard your own." Tooth chuckled. "Besides, have you ever tried getting Jackson to fall asleep? It's like putting a tornado down for naptime when it's on a sugar-high!"

Pitch smirked at the colourful analogy. "As much as I love Jack, I'm sure he can't hold a candle to Meggie." Then he sighed. "Alright, alright I'll be back soon, OK? Just keep her calm and maybe try to talk to her some about the Guardians and about yourself. She loves stories. Maybe tell her the one you told me."

Tooth accepted the challenge. "That sounds just fine with me. Anything I should look for?" She asked as Pitch called Onyx to him and prepared for departure.

He shrugged. "Frankly, I don't know. She talks in her sleep a lot, so she might mumble or cry out. Just...try to do your best and I'm sure she'll be fine. I love you Tooth."

"Love you too." Onyx had trotted up behind Pitch and he climbed up into the saddle, blowing her a kiss before nudging his horse towards the tunnel which led out to the surface. "Good luck!" She called after him and he waved once before he was swallowed up by the darkness.


	20. Life Hacks For New Spirits: Puke Edition

**Hey humans! Guess what, I'm still here! I know it's been a while and I have the same excuse as always- school. It sucks. But I'm kicking its' ass. : ) OK, so here comes the next chapter! Here's where it gets really good! (I know i've been saying that for a while now)**

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Of all the times I've passed out, this one hurt the most upon waking up.

It wasn't a physical kind of hurt. More like the strain of mental anguish because the second I became self-aware I knew my head was going to hurt like crazy and both Pitch and Tooth would be worried about me. Just knowing I was causing other people pain and anxiousness was making me hurt worse, and it didn't lessen any when I actually opened my eyes. Which I did slowly. Very, very slowly.

_It seems I've learned my lesson after all, _I thought, smirking at my own wonderful lack of stupidity as my eyes parted barely a millimeter. Then I realized I was underground and groaned at my utter stupidity.

"Relax Meggie, it's OK. You're alright. I'm here."

I frowned, opening my eyes. Something was stroking my hair. Tooth. She was sitting next to me, stroking my head and telling me it was OK. I blinked, realizing that the darkness wasn't totally complete and there was light. But it was firelight, gently gnawing away at wood piled behind the grate.

"Where..." I licked my lips. They were so dry and cracked that I wondered how long I'd been out. Hours? Days? Or even longer? "Where's Pitch?"

The feathered lady sitting beside me on the bed smiled and withdrew her hand from my head. "He's just off doing his job for the night and he asked me to keep an eye on you. He should be back soon but, until then, you'll have to just settle for me.." She beamed and I smiled back hesitantly. Memories of the previous night were already flooding back into my mind, prompting shame and guilt to start to bubble but I forced it down and hid it.

"That's...fine." I replied, sitting up in my bed. Whoever had put me here had tucked me in pretty tightly but I managed to wiggle free. My room was pretty well the same I'd left it. Aside from the fire. Tooth must've done it because it did get pretty cold down here, as we've seen. "Where's baby Tooth?" I expected to hear a familiar adorable chirp but only Tooth answered.

"Oh, I had to send Baby Tooth back to the Palace to keep the place together until I got back. although she really wanted to stay. She and you seem to be growing quite attached."

"Yeah." I turned to look at her and saw that the fire was reflecting off her rainbow feathers, casting shimmering light dancing across the black stone walls. It was...kind of pretty in a way. Very eerie though. Her amethyst eyes were glowing warmly- and I don't just mean because of the fire. Her whole attitude was relaxed and gentle. Probably because she thought I was going to blow up again.

_Yeah, I'd better apologize for that before we get any farther. _"I'm...sorry for screaming at you, Ms. Tooth Fairy." I said, as politely as I could, nodding in her direction. "I have no idea what came over me and-"

Tooth held up a hand. "Tooth, please, just Tooth."

"Tooth." The word felt really, really odd in my mouth. A designation for a name. Odd. But strangely...refreshing.

She noted now dry and scratchy my voice was and handed me a glass full of water which was resting on my nightstand, alongside my small stash of nighttime reading material. "Here. Pitch said you'd be physically drained as well as somnuously."

I took the drink and gratefully gulped it down, the dryness in my throat evaporating and I could finally breathe normally again.

"Good girl. Drink up, and I'll go fetch you some breakfast."

"You really don't-" I tried to tell her, but she didn't listen.

"I'll be back in a jiffie!" She chirped over her shoulder as she sashayed out. I watched, helplessly stammering but I was powerless to stop her as she vanished through the door.

I threw myself back onto the bed with an exasperated sigh. "Ugh, great. Now _she_ thinks I'm a fragile little doll that can't even get up to eat! Pitch was bad enough!" Now I was going to have to deal with _two_ people watching my very move.

Lying there, staring up at the darkened ceiling, the shadows of my rigged-up book-holder looming high above me while the seconds ticked slowly by. The silence was filled with the faint sounds of my fire flickering, the clock in the hall ticking away and the even fainter sounds of tooth bustling around in the kitchen; plates clinking, chopping, even the sounds of butter melting in a hot pan and the fridge closing.

I turned over, burying my face in my pillow and moaned. "Uuuugh!" Why did they go to so much trouble for me?! _Why?! _"I'm perfectly capable of making myself food!" Although through the pillow I'm sure it sounded more like "Mmm perfmmlmm cmmm ofmrsrf foord."

"I suspect it does."

I rolled over. Tooth was standing in the doorway with a plate of breakfast sandwiches and a small smile on her face. "Hey, those look delicious." My mouth was instantly watering at the smell and sight of those sandwiches. I could smell eggs, sausage and cheese. All fresh, which made me think Pitch had gone out and gotten new food because I was certain that we didn't have sausage in the fridge.

She chuckled. "Well, I was hungry too. And Pitch should be home in no time, so I figured why not make enough for all of us?"

She held the tray out to me and I took one of the sandwiches. They were still warm and steamy. I bit into it and smiled at the deliciousness. "Mmm. That's good. Thanks."

"You're welcome." She sat back down onto my bed and we spent a few minutes eating in silence. I finished off one sandwhich and took another, then another. "You shouldn't eat so fast Meggie. After that drain on your body, putting so much food in so fast could make you throw up."

But I didn't listen and kept on eating. It was either that, or keep talking to her and that I could not do. I didn't even want to look her in the face after what had happened last night. Her or Pitch. Sure she was being nice to be but that didn't mean she had forgiven me.

After my third sandwich went down I felt my stomach gurgling and knew Tooth's prediction was about to come true. "Ugggh." I held my hand over my mouth, trying to keep it in but bile was already burbling in my throat. Seconds later, I hurled. It felt like a tanker of acid was working its way up my throat and I tried to stop but it just kept coming. All over the bed, the blankets and even on the floor. IT was disgusting and I felt like a toddler, just for acting like this.

_Great. Just great. Now I'm gonna get an 'I told you to' and have to clean this crud up!_

But I didn't. Tooth simply sighed- and it didn't even sound like a judgmental sigh! -and walked around the small puddle of puke gingerly, took my by the hand while gently moving the blankets out of the way, and led me to the bathroom. "Come on. Lets clean you up." She said.

I nodded, afraid of opening my mouth again, lest the puke continue to flow. The second my toes hit the ground I felt weak in the knees, unable to stand but Tooth was ready for that. She let me lean on her as we made our slow, crawling way to the bathroom. She asked me if I needed to keep going and I nodded. So she held my hair back for me while I doubled over yet again, gagging and choking this lovely crap out of my system while Tooth told me it was alright. I sensed she had been through this before.

_This sucks soooo much._ I thought, finally pulling my head back from the toilet and grimacing. _Next time I'm going to listen to the fairy. _Though, to be fair it did give me a chance to learn more about what kind of person Tooth is. Mother was the first thing that came to mind. No matter what she was faced with, she seemed always ready and willing to help. When I tried to spit and grimaces, she asked if I needed some water. I said yes and she picked up a glass, washed it out and filled it for me. A few rinses in and I was feeling much better.

"Thank you." I said, nodding gratefully.

She shrugged. "No thanks necessary dear. I'm used to this type of thing. True I haven't had to deal with throw-up in quite some time- in fact, I didn't even know spirits _could_ throw up! But I've had to deal with plenty of sick and ill spirits in my time and I know the gist of it."

"Again, thank you. I haven't really gotten sick before, or thrown up before." I admitted, a little sheepishly.

"And how was it?" She asked, eyes sparkling. She wasn't belittling me, I could tell. She was just trying to make me feel better.

"It hurt." I answered honestly. "A lot. Not as much as some of my changes but I've also been through worse."

She nodded and suggested we go back into the kitchen. Or, more accurately, I go to the kitchen and gurgle some soda-water to settle my stomach while she took care of the mess. I was totally against that.

"It's my mess, Tooth, I can handle it." I told her, though I wasn't too sure. "You've done enough."

But she wouldn't take that for an answer and actually turned her back on me before I finished speaking. "Just relax for a little while. I'll be back." She told me over her shoulder, leaving me alone with my confusion and thoughts.

She wasn't gone long. A few minutes later she returned and we went back through the hall into the kitchen. She asked me to sit down on the couch, brought me a soda-water and watched me until she was sure I was feeling better. I won't lie it felt odd, having someone watching my every move for no other motive, other than to make sure I was OK. Cupcake normally let me do whatever I wanted and take care of myself, Pitch too. Sure he liked to keep his eye on me for my safety, but not like this.

From how she acted and spoke to me, I got the feeling she was sincerely concerned for my well-being and for no other reason than she wanted to be.

"Is that better dear? Do you need anything else?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. Thank you."

Tooth pulled up a seat beside me, leaning with one elbow on the counter and smiling. "So...how do you like living down here?"

I shrugged, swirling my drink as I thought about my answer. This felt less like the interrogation I suspected it was and more like a real heart-to-heart. And I liked that. So I settled for, "It's alright. Not as bad as my last place but I think it's nice. Cold though. Really really cold. Pitch fixed that with the fireplace though. That was nice."

"Mmhmm. He told me he fixed up that room specifically for you."

That few hours after I passed out must've been just a picnic of bubbly conversation topics. _I wonder just how much he told me about her. _"Yeah. I had to make a few mods of my own but essentially yes, he did. You have no idea how badly it stunk, having to freeze my ass off in the library every night because it was colder in my room. The surprise was almost worth the wait."

Tooth raised an eyebrow. "He made you sleep in the library?" She asked incredulously. "Oh, when that man gets back he and I will have _words_."

I chuckled. Oops. "Well no, not really. He didn't know it was as bad as it was and I didn't want to bother him with it, so I just lived down in the library. It wasn't really that bad, to be honest. I got to make a really badass blanket fort."

I could tell she wasn't that impressed. "Still...he should've done something before now."

It didn't really bother me that much. Past in the past and all that jazz. Wanting to change the subject I asked, "How long have you been here?" What I really wanted to know was why she had spent so long here with a sleeping kid who had nearly killed her, not to mention treating her like a member of her family when she's only known her less than a day, but that wouldn't sound right.

"About twelve hours. Pitch left a couple of hours after he put you here for safety." She replied, crossing her legs and straightening up to face me. "And before you ask _yes_, I told him he should go do his job because I wanted to have some time to talk with you alone. Get to know you a little better, like he has. I figured it was smart, since you might be joining our family."

"And what says _I know you better_ than cleaning up barf for someone you hardly know?" I asked sardonically, chugging the last of my soda-water. Ugh, my stomach still felt burbley but it was semi-under control.

Tooth chuckled and patted me on the arm. "Get used to it dear. Even if you choose not to be a part of our family, spirits look out for each other. That's just how it is. Most of us, anyway."

I couldn't deny it, both of the spirits I'd met in my short time had been hospitable, kind and caring. That spoke volumes to me.

"And speaking of family," she continued. "I understand you don't remember anything about your past and family."

I nodded. "Nada."

"Not a thing?" She prompted, looking at me like she thought I was holding out on here and...lets face it...I was. "Sometimes memories slip through the cracks and emerge into our dreams and thoughts."

_So that explains the creepy nightmares and bad daydreams._ "Well...there are a few things I've...seen." I told her hesitantly and before I knew it, I was virtually spilling my guts out to her, telling her everything I was seeing behind my eyes when I went to sleep- bar one. That one nightmare of the little girl behind the mirror. That was something I was going to keep to myself until I felt, for sure, that I trusted her.

For some reason, I also kept the little voice in my head a secret, but only because it told me so.

_Just...trust me on this._ It said. So I did.

Tooth listened very carefully, interjecting where she thought she ought to and hmming thoughtfully every time I told her something that I guess sounded suspect. Of course I had no frame of reference as to what was suspect and what wasn't, but I trusted her and when I was finished I asked hopefully, "Do you know what any of this means, Tooth?"

Tooth shrugged. "I'm no dream expert. You would have to talk to Sandman about that. He's part of our family too."

I nodded. "Right. And the Easter Bunny and Santa Clause." I swear it didn't mean to sound sarcastic but I guess it did anyway because once again, that slender eyebrow was up and she folded her arms across her chest.

"Meggie, you've already met the Tooth Fairy and the Boogeyman. Is the idea of the Sandman, Easter Bunny and Santa Clause really _that_ hard to believe?"

She made a good point and I couldn't help but agree. But I wasn't going to get anywhere near other spirits- or people for that matter, until I had my powers under control and I told her so, as well as adding in an apology. Her answer didn't surprise me.

"That's not necessary dear. Every spirit, when young, has trouble controlling their powers. It's just the way things are. The important thing is that nobody got too hurt, and that you're alright. You have nothing to apologize for."

No, no I really, _really_ did. "No, miss you don't understand." I told her, hoping that if I explained she would get it. "I've _never_ done that before. Anything like that, whatsoever. I've gone through some rough changes, and I've gotten angry but that...that was something terrifying that I've never done before. I can't risk that ever happening again and I know Pitch would agree with me."

"I'm sure he could dear. Pitch was, at one point, quite afraid of himself and his own powers. We all were. Like I said, it's just part of being a spirit." I must not have looked totally convinced because she sighed and asked, "Would you like some advice?"

I shrugged.

"Don't think too long on it sweetheart. You might not have done something like this before but I think that you will again. In fact I'm sure of it. And you'll probably do worse. You'll hurt people, you'll get hurt. But you know what?" She leaned in and I couldn't guess what would come next. "That's life. It's going to happen. All you need to do is understand that and meet it face to face when it comes. Don't be afraid of yourself, please. That's one of the worst things you can do."

She did have a point. "But..." I shrugged helplessly, kicking the bar to try and get my nerves going. "But what if I can't control it and someone dies because I couldn't keep it under wraps?"

"Oh sweetheart, no one is going to _die_." Tooth laughed, waving a dismissive hand. "Besides, we're all dead in the spirit realm anyway."

Like that made me feel any better and I knew this was grasping at straws, but I couldn't help it. "But...Pitch said I was supposed to help kids-"

"That is the job of us Guardians." Tooth interrupted smoothly. "We take care of the kids in the world, and you still qualify as a kid young lady. _Your_ first duty isn't to the children of the world or to your creed. It's to _yourself_. You owe it to yourself to find out your limitations and what makes you snap so that you can know in the future and prevent something like this from happening again."

I was back to smiling again. She was right, and we both knew it.

"It's all trial and error sweetheart, just like in life. Having mystical powers and being able to change your shape doesn't mean you're no longer human. It just means you're going to have more fun than a human." She winked and, in spite of myself, that warm sense of security I had only ever felt around Cupcake and when I was safe in my little tent in the library returned. I smiled.

"Thanks Tooth." I said, extending a hand as a gesture of friendship. "This has been...enlightening."

She took my hand in hers and squeezed it gently. "I'm glad."

Suddenly we both heard the clip-clopping of hooves and a familiar voice rang out. "Tooth? Are you there? I'm home!"

"In here honey!" Tooth called back, smirking. "I guess he's home."

"I guess so." I watched as first the nightmare, then the Nightmare King appeared out of the tunnel to our right. The horse instantly made for me and I recognized it as Onyx by the soft, nickering voice in my head as she got closer. "Hey girl," I cooed, rubbing her neck. "How was your night?"

Onyx leaned her head against my shoulder and replied, _It was fine. Much warmer than I'm used to. Spring is definitely coming._

"That's good. Did you have fun?"

She pulled away from my and I swear those bright golden eyes had the most sardonic look I'd ever seen in a horse. _Let's see, did I have fun hauling a fretful Boogeyman whose only train of thought the entire night was 'Oh, I hope Meggie's alright!' 'Do you think Meggie's awake by now?' 'Tooth should be OK taking care of Meggie.' It was exhausting Meggie, let me tell you. I had to do a couple of short-stops to snap him out of it and get him to focus on his job._

I chuckled. A short-stop was when Onyx went into a gradual dive, then suddenly pulled up short in the middle. It was a shocker, really. A method that Onyx told me regular horses used to wake up fearful riders who were petrified and get then back on track. Only they did it running.

"Oh, he must've _loved_ that."

Tooth looked at me funny. "Loved what?"

I went to answer her but Pitch, who had just come into view, cut me off. "Meggie!"

I turned just in time to catch a bolt of black speeding towards me. I flinched automatically, but I needn't have bothered. It was only Pitch, taking the immediate opportunity to smother me in fatherly adoration and love.

"Meggie, I'm so glad to see you safe and awake." He gushed, taking me by the shoulders and looking me over with such scrutiny that I had to try not to blush. "You are alright, right? Safe? Well? Did you sleep alright?"

I nodded. "I'm fine, Pitch. I'm fine. Yes I slept alright. Threw up quite a lot when I woke up but that's all my fault." His eyebrows instantly shot up and I raised a hand, sensing what he was going to say before the words even left his lips. "Look, Tooth was cool enough to make me food and I ate too much and ended up puking my guts out but it really wasn't her fault. So don't take it out on her ok?"

He blinked. "I...didn't intend to." But I guessed he was lying.

Tooth was probably thinking along the same lines as me but she didn't let it show. "How was work dear?" She asked, sidling up beside her man and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Did you help lots of children?"

Pitch frowned, switching attention from me to her which I was profusely grateful for. Gave me time to work out what I wanted to tell him and what I would keep to myself. "Yes, strange though. There were only a few children actually having bad nightmares. All the other serious levels of fear I felt ended up being false alarms."

"You can get false alarms?" I asked before I could stop myself.

He nodded, turning back to me. Damn. "Yes, and it happens a lot more often than you think. Nothing is fool-proof, remember that Meggie."

I nodded back. That was a lesson I had learned already. And I'd learned it the hard way.

Pitch smiled and hugged me. I'll admit, the lingering warmth felt really, really good around my shoulders. "But enough about me. Tell me, what else has been happening while I was away?" He asked, clapping a hand on my shoulder and steering me towards the couch.

Tooth followed us and we all sat down, the adults sandwiching me between them. But loosely. Tooth reclined on the other end of the couch while Pitch sat close, keeping his hand on my shoulder. Pitch was still looking at me, so I guessed he expected an answer from me.

I shrugged. "We talked. A lot."

His eyebrows raised again. "Oh? What about?"

"Just...stuff. She gave me some good advice and was just generally cool." Any specifics and he would have to wait.

He nodded. "I see."

Tooth leaned forward to give her two-bits. "I asked Meggie how she liked it down here and she told me about a few experiences, including-" She gave her boyfriend a mock-glare. "Her living quarters while you were renovating her room."

Pitch winced. "I had no control over that!" He objected.

I chuckled. "You didn't stop me either." I pointed out. "I swear I skipped an entire day once because I ended up being frozen in that library and the only reason I woke up was because Onyx lit a fire for me!"

Tooth blinked. "Your Nightmares can light fires?"

"With their eyes at ten paces." He replied smugly, folding his arms. "At any rate, I'm glad to know you enjoy it down here. I've tried to make this place as hospitable as possible and it feels good to know that all my efforts haven't been in vain."

I smiled but remained silent. I did appreciate everything he had done and was glad he knew it, but the thought that I would, one day, be leaving this place, just like I had left Cupcake's, was still present in the back of my mind.

Tooth folded her hands in her lap. "You know," she said thoughtfully. "Pitch told me quite a few things about you in the time you were unconscious Meggie but I don't think he ever told me how you two met. I've just been dying to know," she admitted, grinning a little sheepishly. "I was just about to ask you, Meggie, when Pitch showed up. I mean, if that's alright."

Pitch glanced at me. "Ah..."

"He kidnapped me." I answered smugly, just loving the grimace on Pitch's face. "I mean sure there were a lot of other factors but basically yeah. He kidnapped me."

Tooth looked from me to Pitch who was still grimacing, then back to me, clearly wondering if this was a really messed up joke or if I was being serious.

Pitch rolled his eyes. "Much to my chagrin, yes Tooth she is being totally serious."

Before Tooth could even ask, I decided to save Pitch the embarrassment and explain, as well as I could, how events had transpired which led to Pitch kidnapping me. Tooth's eyes went wide a few times during the retelling and she even laughed a bit at the appropriate moments (not to mention some inappropriate ones) and by the end of it I was pretty sure Pitch was blushing all the way down to his feet.

"Well then..." Tooth said once I had finished and leaned back, waiting for her reaction. "That was...interesting. So you two just...grew closer as time passed?"

I shrugged. "Well, yeah, I guess. Mostly I didn't trust him in the beginning and I kept trying to run away but he wouldn't let me. He kept telling me I should stay with him because the world was dangerous for new spirits, blah blah blah. Wanted me to be safe. I got free food, and a place to live that was better than my old one, but local, so that I could still visit my friend, so I decided to just say screw it and trust him. And that's all there is to it."

Tooth gave me a serious look. "He's right you know. The world is dangerous. Not just for spirits but for anyone!"

I was feeling a little good about my situation so I figured showing off a little couldn't hurt. I reached down and pulled up my left pants leg, exposing a very old bruise that was mottled blue and black. "Oh believe me, I know."

Tooth looked horrified. "If somebody did that to you-"

"Don't worry Tooth," Pitch smoothly intervened. "Meggie received that after a crash-landing in a tree."

"It looks much worse than it did when I got it," I added, lowering the pants leg. "Seriously. And it doesn't hurt much anymore. I've had worse."

Tooth nodded, not looking convinced but she decided to let it drop. "So...what type of spirit are you?" She asked instead.

I raised an eyebrow. "Did he tell you _anything_ about me, aside from the fact that I don't remember anything about my time before I was a spirit?"

Tooth shrugged. "He left pretty quickly after you passed out."

"I did." Pitch agreed. "And she's a Changeling, Tooth." He told Tooth proudly and I nearly died of embarrassment when Tooth's jaw dropped open. "As close as we can guess."

"She is?! Wow..." Her tone practically radiated awe. I looked away, blushing to the roots of my purple hair. Suddenly, Tooth was right up in my face, her eyes wide as she combed through my slightly greasy hair. "Wow, I saw it change color while you were asleep and Pitch told me it was connected to your mood but he never mentioned this! Absolutely fascinating. Beautiful too, if I haven't told you already. So silky and fine- oh look it's turning firey! Wow..." She took a huge clump and ran it through her fingers.

I glanced at Pitch with both eyebrows raised. She was babbling like a happy toddler. "Does...she always do this?"

Tooth ignored me, running a finger across my brow in utter amazement. "Your eyebrows change color too! That's a _lovely_ shade of red."

Pitch chuckled. "You're lucky she's not poking at your teeth."

"Oh my goodness I almost forgot!" And, quicker than a snake striking, Tooth's hands moved from my forehead to my mouth. I got a very up-close and personal view of Tooth's crown of feathers as she peered inside. "Hmm...quite a lot of damage in here young lady. And not just from the acid of the vomit. Do you _ever_ brush? Oh my, so many cavities! It's like all you eat is sugar!"

Pitch snorted and I flipped him off, trying to speak but Tooth's fingers were still present and reduced my words to so much garbled nonsense. "'_ooth! Ahg mry. Framma grahag!_" Good gods this woman was motherhood incarnate!

Tooth removed her fingers and gave me a reproving look. "You really should take better care of them dear," she chided. "Memories can be totally lost to tooth decay. Believe me, I'm the Tooth Fairy. I know these things."

I shot Pitch a familiar _is she serious?_ Look but Pitch could only shrug. "She _is_ the Tooth Fairy."

"Yes I am indeed. And I know when_ and why_ teeth aren't being properly taken care of, _Pitch_." She rounded on her boyfriend. "You don't even _own_ a toothbrush. And even if you do, I have not seen you brush your teeth once since last year! I bet they're rotting out as we speak!" And so saying Tooth dove across the couch and started prying Pitch's jaws open, much to his distress and my amusement.

"Tooth- wait! They're fine! No, stop it! Ow! You poked my cheek!"

"Well if you'd quit squirming!" She snapped.

I couldn't help it. I snickered. _Watching the two of them is so frikking adorable I think I'm gonna hurl again. _This was a side of my new friend that I hadn't seen before, and I was loving every minute of it! He'dbeen caring, kind, downright terrifying and terrified at times. But this was totally out of character. _He's __**giggling**__, for pity's sake!_

It was true. But only because Tooth appeared to be tickling him by not-quite-accident with her feathers.

Once Tooth was satisfied with the condition of Pitch's molars, she settled back down and resumed grilling us about...well everything really. There seemed to be no end to her questions. How long ago did we meet? What did we first said to each other? Why had Pitch had taken me in to begin with? When had my powers had first shown up? Thank the gods Pitch offered up most of the answers and I was able to just sit back and relax, only speaking when it was strictly necessary.

Tooth's reactions were pretty typical, and she seemed to be sincerely interested in whatever Pitch was telling her. She laughed at the humorous stories, she cringed at the less than humorous ones, and the rest of the time she just listened intently, interjecting various questions in response when she deemed it fitting.

The one thing she seemed really keen on knowing was about my powers. I filled her in the best I could, explaining about the pain and how it seemed to be getting less and less with each time I Changed. But when I asked her why she wanted to know, her answer surprised me.

"We haven't had a Changeling spirit around in quite a while," she admitted, grinning like a kid on their first date. "They're very rare and only show up after great tragedies."

"Is...that supposed to make me feel good?"

"Oh no dear, I'm not saying that in a bad way. It's a simple matter of fact." Tooth replied and when I nodded for her to go on, she elaborated. "Most of the time, when a Changeling comes into being, it's because their abilities are needed to help certain people. They're so powerful; I don't know why one of them hasn't been made a Guardian yet. I guess because they're too uncommon." She shrugged. "We haven't seen one in quite a few millennia."

Well well, this was interesting. I leaned forward eagerly. "You've met others like me? Other...Changelings?"

Tooth shrugged. "Well...sort of. I've read about them and heard stories from people who have met and spoken with them and by all accounts they're great beings. Really mischievous though. They love exploring and can't seem to get enough of meeting new people to change into."

Pitch nodded and I resisted the urge to sock him. "Apart from the people part, that's Meggie in a nutshell." He teased poking me in the side.

The fairy nodded knowingly, holding my gaze but her body was turned towards Pitch. "Yes, we've talked a bit about Meggie's...apprehension about meeting new people. I think she would greatly benefit from meeting the other Guardians-"

"But," I interrupted smoothly. "I told her that I'm not interested in meeting any new spirits until I've got this," I tilted my head, showing my still-shifting hair color. "Under control."

"And _I said,_" Tooth added, a little less smoothly. "That it didn't truly matter, as our family is notorious for having short tempers. Isn't that right Pitch?" She stared pointedly at her boyfriend who coughed and opened his mouth to respond but she continued, "do you remember how many times I have to break up fights between-"

Alright, now things were getting heated. "And I told her that it _does_ matter, because did you _see_ what happened last night?" I asked, looking at her coldly. "I nearly _burned this place down._"

Tooth rolled her eyes. "Meggie please, do you know how many times we've all fought in this place? Hundreds! When I said you were powerful I meant it but this place has stood for thousands of years. You're _not_ going to bring it down in a day."

For some reason, that simple roll of her eyes enraged me to the point where my fists were balled and I had to fight hard to keep my face blank._"_I'm not talking about _little family tussles_, Tooth." I spat. "I'm talking about losing control. _Real_ control. My powers can manifest themselves in ways that I don't understand and can't predict and until I can completely understand them, I don't feel comfortable-"

My heart rate was beginning to rise, my temperature too. My hair was most likely bright bright red at this point and it wasn't getting any darker. Thank the gods Pitch decided to take me by the shoulders and cut me off.

"Hey, Meggie look at me. Nobody's going to make you do anything you don't want to do." He said seriously, holding my gaze. My heart thudded but, as the seconds passed and he continued to speak to me, I felt my rage subsiding. "I totally understand not wanting to meet new spirits when you're not sure of yourself. Believe me, I was in that position once. But just because you're scared doesn't mean you have to hide away from the world. I've made that mistake and it's something that will eat you alive and spit you back out again before repeating the process."

He was so lucky I wasn't paying attention by this time. My eyes were closed and I was breathing so deeply I think Pitch thought I was asleep. But no, I was just thinking.

_Thinking about wither I'm gonna clobber her or him. No, no. __**Breathe**__. In, out. In, out._ I didn't _really_ want to clobber them. But I was getting close. Why couldn't they understand that I just wanted to get a handle on this?! _I want to meet new people, and goodness knows I could use the socialization, but if I can't contain this people are gonna get frikking hurt! Why can't they understand that?_

I received a shake on the shoulder and Pitch's anxious voice calling out my name but it took two times to actually shake me out of my own thoughts. I blinked, seeing blue for about a second before it cleared up. Both of them were peering at me anxiously.

"I'm fine."

They didn't look like they believed me.

"I'm fine. Really." I told them, smiling. "Just a little..." Let them finish that thought for me.

"Anxious?" Tooth said, smiling.

That worked. "Yeah."

Tooth looked really ashamed but she held it back quite well. The only way I could tell was her eyes. They glimmered, just a tad behind her fluttering eyelashes. "I'm sorry for pushing Meggie." She told me, laying a hand in mine. Boy, they were really about physical assurance here. "We both just want you to be your best you."

I understood. It was a foreign concept to me, but I understood.

Pitch smiled. "How about we make a deal Meggie?" He suggested, squeezing my shoulder. "I already promised to train you, help you master your powers, and make you totally at ease with yourself as a spirit. Now we can do it so that, once you're comfortable and well-adjusted to your powers, you can meet the rest of our family and not a moment too soon. Sound fair?"

I didn't even need to think twice about it. This was _just_ the deal I had been looking for. "Sounds fair enough to me."

"I can help too." Tooth added. "My mother knew a fair bit about energy and magical auras that ties in with your emotions being in tune with your powers. I'm sure I could help you feel more self-aware and reliant on your powers."

"Thank you, thank you both. Yes that sounds perfect." It looked like things were going to work out after all.

Following that conversation were several long hours of story-telling on the part of Pitch and Tooth. As far as I was concerned, I had fulfilled my quote of answering questions for the year and it was about time they return the courtesy. Jamie's elaboration of Pitch's family was pretty useful, but information is always more reliable when it's close to home. And it didn't get any closer than family on family.

Pitch and Tooth were all too happy to answer most all of the questions I had, until we got to the other members of Pitch's family. Jamie had told me about more than just the Guardians, but when I asked about the ones I hadn't heard of Pitch balked.

"I think it's best if I just tell you about the Guardians for now."

I frowned. "Why's that?"

"It's a little..."

"Complicated." Tooth finished.

"Exactly."

So I shrugged and settled back into the old comfortable position against his shoulder and listened to him and Tooth tell me pretty much the same thing Jamie had, only they went into much more detail. At least, for as long as I could keep my eyes open.

Half-way through Tooth's recount of her own upbringing, I felt my eyelids beginning to droop. I tried to hide it, covering my mouth every time I felt the urge to yawn but a few minutes later my eyelids closed. Tooth continued speaking and I thought nobody noticed but, eventually, a hand made its way to my shoulder and a cool voice whispered in my ear, "Perhaps you've had enough excitement for the day dear. I think it's time to go back to sleep. We can resume this in the morning."

My eyes snapped open but they were very bleary. "I'm not tired!" I mumbled. It sounded weak, even to me. "Really, I'm not! Go on with your story Tooth."

"Oh no sweetheart," Tooth said, standing up and taking my hand. "Pitch is right. You need to sleep. That over-extension of your powers was bad enough but puking certainly didn't help. Come on now, I'll help you get to your room."

Pitch gave a gentle nudge to help get me moving and Tooth, despite my halfhearted complaints, they managed to get me on my feet. I wavered and, faster than you can say vertigo Pitch had scooped me up into his arms and carried me all the way to my room with Tooth trailing behind.

I was already in pj's from the previous day's sleep, so that wasn't a big issue. Still half in the realm of sleep, I felt Pitch lay me down and cover me up. Gods forbid I should start whining about the cold again!

"Good night sweet. Tomorrow, if you're well enough we can discuss your future training regime."

I nodded, blinking slowly. There was one thing I wanted to say before I passed out. Just one. "I'm really glad I met you, you know. Both of...you." I yawned.

Tooth smiled, laying a hand on my forehead, smoothing back my hair. "I'm glad I met you too Meggie. And I promise that no matter what, we both will be here to look out for you."

I won't lie, that felt good to hear. I don't know what on earth possessed me to start thinking like this right as I was about to go to sleep but there they were. I guess it was just part of my rapidly reemerging identity. Like my mental grumbling, my incessant talking and all the other things that made me me. They were difficult to understand and sometimes they hurt. But little by little through these painful experiences and small, insignificant mannerisms shaped me into a new person.

I was just starting to understand this but I already knew that I didn't need lost memories or family that had obviously abandoned me. I had made my own family right here, starting with Cupcake. A baby sister. And now I had a mother and father too.

Pitch nodded in agreement and produced a handful of dreamsand. "Do you need any of this?"

"No, I don't think so. I think I'll...just...sleep. G'night mom. G'night dad." And with that I rolled away from them, closed my eyes and went right to sleep, spiraling off into the void of dreamland.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Pitch and Tooth stood there for a long, long time. Tooth was...frankly astounded by the slip- was it a slip? Had she meant to say mom and dad?

Pitch seemed to be thinking along the same lines because he smiled and slipped a hand in hers, squeezing it tenderly. "Seems like you've added another daughter to the list, eh Tooth?"

She nodded. "And so...it seems...have you."

"Are you happy about that?"

"More than I can say."

"Then why are you shaking?"

Pitch turned to face her, watching her face carefully. Tooth turned her face away, blushing but her boyfriend caught her by the pale chin.

"Tooth..."

"I saw."

Pitch frowned. "What?"

She finally looked up at him. "I saw the power in her, Pitch. When she changes, when she gets emotional, even when she speaks normally I can feel it. She's stronger than anyone I've ever seen before and she is right. If she doesn't learn how to control her powers, she will hurt someone. But I told her that that's always what happens." Her eyes were wide and she almost looked just the littlest bit afraid.

He raised an eyebrow. "Not the best advice sweet, given the circumstances."

Tooth shrugged, shifting anxiously from foot to foot, as if she didn't want to believe what she was saying but felt compelled to say it anyway. "I figured it would help. I now understand that my eastern philosophy might not be the best means of counseling. But my point is, you need to pay special attention to this child Pitch. What I said about Changeling is very true. They do appear after the greatest of tragedies but they can also be the bringers of great joy, if they are properly nurtured. If not..."

Pitch felt his body stiffen. "I get it I get it, she'll end up just like me. A curse upon humanity." It was his turn to turn away, hiding his face.

"No!" Suddenly, Tooth grabbed him by the arm and forced him to look her in the eye. "It's not that, Pitch. It's the hollowness that will eat her up inside, just as it did you. That is what I'm worried about, not what she'll do to the world, but what the world will do to her."

Pitch nodded. He was worried about that too. "That's why I want to train her. Get her used to her powers, like I did without the pain and suffering."

"She's already in pain and suffering!"

"And I'm doing all I can to fix that." Pitch retorted. "But I can only do so much!" He sighed tiredly, rubbing his face. There were many wrinkle lines forming on his brow, making him feel old. "Tooth I want what's best for her. We both do. And, near as I can tell what's best for her is learning. That can only happen with time. So, whether we want to have her meet the others or not, it's going to happen with time one way or another. So I suggest we both just go to sleep, wake up tomorrow and just let things fall where they may. OK? There's nothing we can do but keep her as safe as we can for now and wait."

Tooth seemed to sense how exhausted he was by this whole ordeal and nodded, letting her head fall against chest. "You're right. I'm sorry for pushing." She told him. "I'm just…I'm just a little worried. Tell me you can't feel that power too Pitch?"

Pitch nodded. Oh yes, he felt it. Even when she was asleep or relaxed, he could still feel the cosmic energy coming off of her in waves. He'd felt it the second he had laid eyes on her and, while normally fear was the only sensation strong enough to get his attention, the magic in Meggie was ten times that of anything he had ever experience while in a child's nightmare. "Come on." He said, beckoning her to follow him down the hall. "We both need some sleep. Onyx will watch over her until I wake up."

His girlfriend nodded mutely, following him to his bedroom. "You know, it's been ages since I was last in here." She teased, poking him in the ribs as they both curled up beneath the blankets.

Pitch chuckled. "Oh yes, I remember. That time Sanderson put you in here by mistake. The look on your face was absolutely hilarious."

"Not to me!" Tooth rolled her eyes. "I'm just glad you've put all that behind you and started looking forward to other things. It's not good to dwell too far in the past, Pitch. Believe me, I'm the spirit of memories. I know."

The Boogeyman wanted to ask what she was talking about, but the dreamsand bag he had been holding for Meggie had leaked just a tad onto his hand and the magic was already winding its way up his pale arm, settling over both him and Tooth in a golden patchwork of clouds and spider-webs.

Meggie slept for a long, long time. Pitch and Tooth, being the total workaholics they were, were only able to sleep for six or seven hours at a time and just as darkness fell on the surface world, Pitch's eyes opened from sleep. He swore and turned over, his hand still curled underneath Tooth's back, holding her tightly against him. "Stupid internal chronometer." He muttered.

"Oh, so you're finally awake."

Pitch shifted. "And so, it seems are you Tooth." He kissed her on the forehead. "I'm guessing you need to go back to work and my, uh, exuberance has stopped you?" He nodded at his hands and she smiled.

"Indeed. You've got a tighter grip than a Burmese python."

He chuckled and let her go. They both sat up. Pitch checked the grandfather clock and groaned, falling back onto the pillows. "Only seven hours!" He moaned dramatically. "I swear Tooth sometimes I _hate_ being a creature of the night!"

Tooth chuckled, standing up. "Perks of the job Pitch. Now come on, get dressed. I want to see Meggie one last time before I leave."

Pitch nodded and shrugged on the closest robe, which was just one of the dozen he had lying about his room. Tooth made a face and, in a fit of childish pique, he stuck his tongue out at her. She giggled.

"It seems Meggie isn't the only one being influenced down here," she said, smirking as he linked his arm with hers and they headed down the hall. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you're acting like a child, Pitch."

Pitch leaned in for a real kiss this time. "And you're complaining?"

"I didn't say that."

For Onyx, who was standing outside Meggie's room keeping an eye on her, it had to be the weirdest thing she'd ever seen when Pitch and Tooth came into view at the other end of the hall. They were holding hands, laughing and giggling like newlyweds. As they approached Onyx asked her master, _Uh, Pitch? Are you alright?_

Pitch nodded, still grinning. "Yes Onyx I'm fine. Tooth's just being a horrible tease this morning." He tickled her side just enough to make her squeak and Onyx shied away from the noise awkwardly.

"Pitch, stop that!"

The poor nightmare wasn't sure quite what to do. This was the most care-free her master had ever been and- not that that was a bad thing. It was just weird. _I'm…going to go check on the others. _She said, slowly backing away. _Grab some food and stuff. I'm starving._

"Ok. Go right ahead. But I might need you to keep an eye on her again later." Pitch called to her as she wheeled around and took off as fast as she could down the hall. He frowned. "Huh. Odd horse. You'd think she's never seen me happy before."

Tooth smiled, patting his arm. "Not in a long time, at least. Come on, let's see how she's doing."

Meggie was still asleep. Big surprise there. And, even less of a surprise, she was snoring loudly. Tooth clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. "Oh my goodness," she whispered through her fingers. "She's so cute when she's asleep!"

Pitch chuckled. "You're lucky she is asleep, because I'm pretty sure she would throttle you if she heard you call her cute." He crossed the room to the Changeling's bed and checked her forehead. "She's not warm, that's good. A few more hours like this and some food and she'll be find. Meggie's recovered from worse than this so far."

Tooth nodded. "Well, I've got to go. The fairies have been barraging me with mental messages for the last few hours and it's really not safe for me to leave for long periods of time." She reached up and planted a dainty kiss on Pitch's lips. "I'll see you later, kay? Send me a message if or when she wakes up."

"I will." He kissed her back. "Come down and visit me from time to time, OK? I love your palace but the light…"

"I know, I know. Creature of the night." She chuckled. "But yes, I'll be back here soon."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

They sealed it with another quick kiss before Tooth turned and flew away. Pitch sighed tiredly. "I will need coffee." He said decidedly, sending a mental message to one of the nightmares to come look after her. "Today, I will most certainly need coffee. And a training schedule." One would be easy to procure. The other…not so much.

Pitch made his way to the library first to pick up all the books he could find on Changelings and spiritual training. They floated behind him in two ten-tier stacks on a plate of black nightmare sand as he headed back up to the kitchen. A light breakfast followed; sausages, eggs, coffee and toast. Pitch took extra care not to eat over the books. Some of these were over a thousand years old!

He spent hours combing through the books, eating at a snail's pace. Somehow he had ended up with sheets of blank paper and was scribbling away ideas for future training. He wanted to focus on physical and emotional before working on her powers, as well as a few sub-classes on other spirits and their strengths and weaknesses. The world was full of big bad spirits that would chew her up and spit her snarky butt back out teeth and bones, but at least with his help she would know enough about her adversary.

All the while he worked he thought about just how…_happy_ this made him. Not just taking care of Meggie and having Tooth here again, but the very concept of him being here, in his chair, sitting up at the counter, reading, writing, enjoying existence, it was strangely comforting, compared to the usual chaotic nature of his life. It wasn't going to last of course, but they very _fact_ that there was a break in the chaos had him believing that everything was going to be, well... it would be.

"What's with all the paper?"

Pitch jumped and the notes went flying every which way. Not that they had been very orderly before, scattered over the counter-top like drafts of a novel but how they slid from their place onto the floor with a rich crunch, like leaves on the wind. The thicker bundles dropped with a dull thunk and when he spun around he saw a head of greasy purple hair kneeling in front of him, picking them up.

"Thank you," he said, a little uncertainly. He hadn't even heard her approach. "They're...training notes. I thought we could get a jump on it as soon as you were well enough since I did promise you a while ago and I've sort of been putting it off..."

Meggie straightened up, scanning one of the notes. He thought she would object but all she said was, "Huh." Then she handed them back. "OK."

"...OK?"

"Yeah, OK. Lets get started." Meggie rolled her shoulders, grinning. She looked...pretty amusing in her black fluffy pajama bottoms and tank top. Like a boxer who just woke up from sleep.

"What do you mean, _lets get started?_ You just woke up!"

Meggie sighed, stretching her arms up above her head. "I've been up for _hours_, Boogeyman. How can anyone sleep with all that clip-clopping outside my door?"

Pitch made a mental note to kill whichever nightmare it was that had answered his call. "I'm sorry about that. It won't happen again. But you are still recovering from the other night. I can't, in good faith, allow you to start training until you are fit and rested." He stacked the books in two towers on the counter, watching her closely. She seemed to be relaxed and didn't look tired, but looks could be decieving. "For now, I can get you something to eat, and give you a few tips on controlling your emotions but actual, physical training will have to wait."

She folded her arms across her chest defiantly. "Pitch, look at me! I am fine!" And she seemed to believe it. "I just puked a little I didn't get _shot_."

"Shot or not, you need time to recuperate." He told her sternly. "You can't just hop up out of bed and be alright. That's not how it works."

This time when he told her no, Meggie actually took a moment to think about his answer. "You know," she said after a minute's silence. Her gaze was directed off into the distance but as she spoke she turned to look him in the eye. "It's strange. But I think my recovery time is getting less and less because I'm getting used to being hurt."

Pitch could practically feel his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. "Meggie that's not a good thing!" He cried, then he thought about it. Maybe it was.

In his experience- which included many many years of getting beat down and, _eventually_, getting back up again, each time a battle left him wounded and tired it seemed to get just the tiniest bit easier to get back on his feet and live. He'd thought it was just him, but apparently it applied to Meggie too.

She seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he was. "It's not?"

Pitch sighed. He knew he was going to regret this, but once Meggie got an idea into her head it was a safe bet she wouldn't let it go until he at least let her try. "OK, yeah, maybe it is a good thing." He admitted. "You're getting stronger, after all. The more you get beat up-"

"The harder I am to beat down." Meggie finished, grinning. "See? I knew you'd see it my way." She sat down next to him at the counter, picking up an apple from a bowl to her left. "So," she said, taking a huge chomp. "Where do we start?"

"We start," Pitch replied, turning back to his books. Picking one up and flipping through the pages, he handed it to her. "With a written."

"Say what?"

Pitch smirked, standing up and heading for the stove. "Physical training is all well and good, but nothing beats knowledge in an instance of combat. You read through that chapter, and I'll fix you something light to eat. Then we can go over what you've read if you have any questions which, knowing you, I'm sure you will."

Meggie's head flopped down on the counter with a disgusted sigh. "I thought I was going to learn how to beat the crap out of people! Now I find out you're just gonna make me _read_ a lot. Blah!"

Pitch had his back to her as he fumbled around in the fridge for some yogurt and eggs. "I thought you liked reading," he teased, setting the eggs on the counter. "Besides, this is just as important. Know your enemy."

"I haven't made any enemies yet!" She protested.

"Then know all the enemies you _might_ make." He cracked the eggs into a waiting pan, already hot and sizzling with olive oil. "Anyone can be considered an enemy, until they prove otherwise." The eggs made quite a racket and Meggie had to shout over them to make herself be heard.

"Since when did you become so philosophical?" She asked. "And anyway, I thought you were supposed to be training me to control my powers? Since neither of us want what happened last night to happen again..."

He glanced over his shoulder. "Are you angry?"

She shrugged. "Not really. Just...confused. And annoyed."

"And is that annoyance taking you over and forcing you to change?"

She shook her head.

He turned back to the eggs and flipped them. "Then I'd say we're making some progress from where you were the other day."

XXXXXXXXXXX

"How does the Boogeyman become such a good cook?" I asked, finishing up my eggs. I'd wolfed them down without much of a second's thought, though Pitch did caution me to eat slower.

"Or you're going to have a repeat of the other night and I am _not_ in the mood to be cleaning up vomit today." He teased.

But I had ignored him, mowing through the food like a saw mill. My stomach was actually ravenous and the yogurt helped, but Pitch refused to let me have anything else to eat. I didn't fault him for it. I wouldn't want to clean up puke either. In fact, I wasn't even sure how one _did_ clean up puke. _Maybe it's a special spirit kind of puke, _I mused, chasing a particularly squelchy egg that kept sliding off to the side of my plate. _Like, it disappears on its own. Or maybe I can collect it to use as some sort of weird alchemy experiment! _I would have to ask Pitch about that later. Might be fun.

Pitch, who was standing by the stove, shrugged and poured another cup of coffee for me. "Just long, long years of practice." He replied. "As with any skill."

I nodded my thanks and took the cup, still steaming and hot to the touch. "Black. Why am I not surprised?" I muttered.

"But of course." He made a mock-bow to me and I smirked. In spite of all that had happened, he was still treating me like a normal kid.

"Don't you have any creamer?" I whined, swirling the murky cup. "Or milk, something to take the bite off? I swear this stuff was made from scorpion blood!"

Pitch actually cackled. "Oh no my dear, if it were scorpion coffee you would know." He replied, reaching into a the dingy-looking fridge and pulling out a bottle- a real, glass bottle mind you, not a cheap plastic carton, of milk. He handed it to me, along with a small bottle of vanilla flavoring.

"Oh?" I challenged, pouring as much as the cup would allow. "And how would you know?"

"Because there would be mandibles amongst the grains at the bottom." He replied without missing a beat. He still had his back to me but I could bet he was smirking. Har har.

"Ok fine, you win that one. But one of these days-"

"Yes yes Meggie, one of these days you will astound me with your wit and punny malice." He interrupted, snatching the milk bottle back and holding it aloft. "But it is not this day!"

I giggled. Jeez, and I thought I was a ham?

"But enough of that. Have you finished that chapter yet?"

I groaned. Great. _This_ again. "I'm stuck on this stupid paragraph. I don't get what it means! Just a bunch of weird symbols and long words I can barely pronounce. And what's all this here," I pointed to a passage in the book. "About supernatural energy becoming a weapon?"

Pitch nodded, his back still turned towards me. He was wiping down the counter. "Yes, I'm sure there will be a lot of that in the future. Old books are seldom easy to read. Let me take a look." He walked around the counter and I flipped the book in his direction. He scanned it, searching for the section. "What, this? Oh, it's actually referring to aura. Supernatural energy is actually any form of energy given by aether. Auras are independently-generated fields of electromagnetic energy that can be harnessed as a force."

This was interesting. Maybe I had even more power than I suspected. "So, I can use this...aura stuff, to fight people?" I asked eagerly.

"After many, many years of practice." He replied, to my annoyance. Typical. Everything takes time and effort. "Auras are the result of natural energy in a body- heat, force, light, any form of energy, condensing into a field around the body. Invisible only on certain light spectrums- yes, don't look at me like that. Light spectrums are a thing."

I raised my hands defensively, trying to hide my smirk. Touchy, touchy. "I never said there wasn't! I just...didn't expect a spirit to believe in science."

"Science is just another word for magic," Pitch told me seriously, bracing himself on the counter-top with one elbow while his hand gestured to the empty air. "A force which can be explained, but only to certain people. Humans understand science, we understand magic. Two names for the same idea."

Ok, I was with him so far. "So, it's kind of like a chi?" Jess and Margaret were a big fan of chi. They were all about using your inner eye and all that malarkey. The only time I used chi was when I wanted good, strong tea.

"It's different than chi, or life-force. Auras are exclusively exterior. None of it comes from inside, except the energy itself. Chi and life-force actually are magical in origin. Spark of life and all that, granted by aether."

"Aether," I repeated slowly. Another new word. "I've heard you say that before. What is that?" I couldn't remember ever having heard that word before, and yet there was _something_ distantly familiar about it.

"Aether isn't a what. It's a _who. _Sort of." He shrugged when I raised an eyebrow. "Physical status is a difficult thing to discern when you're a spirit as old as a planet. You remember how I told you all spirits have a creed- some force they alone are responsible for?"

"Yeah, yours is fear-"

"Courage," Pitch interrupted. "I used to be a spirit of fear. Now I'm the spirit of courage who uses fear as a tool to instill courage."

"Right. Like that?"

He nodded. "Exactly. Aether is...well...I _think_ she's like us in that respect. Truth be told, I don't know all that much about Aether. I think I heard her voice once, in a dream where my sort of daughter was trying to help me get my memories back but I can't remember anything about it. All I know about Aether is what I've heard from other spirits. She's supposed to be the spirit of spiritdom itself, the source of magic, energy, and our powers," Pitch paused, frowned. "Though...that doesn't make much sense. It's more likely that she's an alien."

Hold on, wait, what? Apply the breaks and check the rearview and side mirrors! "Did you just say an _alien?_" Was he serious? I was just now getting around to understanding how the whole spirit thingy worked! Now he was telling me they were actually aliens?!

"Hold on, I know how that sounds." Pitch said, raising his hands to stop me. "But it is true! Before earth was inhabited, beings similar to humans lived on different planets in totally different galaxies than the one we are in now. A few of my friends are actually, _technically_, aliens. It's hard to explain." He admitted. "But I'll leave that for another day."

My eyes narrowed and I raised a threatening finger. "We _will_ go back to this soon Boogeyman."

He nodded. "We will, I promise. But too much information at once is only going to confuse you. Now, where were we?"

"Aether," I prompted, positively _itching_ to learn more.

"Right. Aether." He paused, looking thoughtfully at the book lying open in front of him, probably thinking about his next words. I waited patiently, tapping my food to relieve the excitement. "Well, in a nutshell, Aether is more of a myth than a person. All people have their ideas on creation and where they come from. Spirits are no different. We've been asking ourselves the same question humans have- what made me _me?_ -since forever. Aether is supposed to be the deciding factor in who is chosen to be a spirit and who is not."

Somehow I got the feeling he didn't sincerely believe that. "_Supposed_ to be?"

Pitch nodded. "I don't put much stock in that." He admitted. "I was created out of the memories of an alien and the powers of dark creatures. And my family were all given spiritual status by another spirit who- in all technicality, is an alien himself. And I'm guessing you were once a human, like some of the younger spirits."

"How do you know I'm not an alien?" I teased.

"Changelings aren't aliens." He replied, reaching out to tweak my nose. "They're humans which have more natural magic than other humanoids, as you well know. Spirits aren't just born spirits, like Changelings are. You have to do something to earn spiritdom. We're not a species either. In fact, there are so many different species in the spirit world there is no way that Aether could make them all. Spirits are made through their own means or the means of others. It would make more sense for Aether to be just another spirit like us, keeping watch over her element."

"Right, right."

"There's no doubt she still exists," he continued. "As elements without someone to watch over them tend to run wild and cause chaos, which would be noticed by the rest of us, but no one has ever seen her and we've never heard of another spirit taking over from her."

"Wait, taking over? As in _becoming_ aether?" He was right. My brain was starting to hurt.

"Like I said, spirits are in charge of an element and, while we are long-lived, we aren't totally immortal. We can get hurt and even die from our injuries."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I've kind of figured that one out myself thanks."

He didn't look like he was joking. "I'm serious Meggie. That's something you'll have to learn very quickly, _and it's something my grandson still has yet to learn,_" he added under his breath. "That just because you're a spirit does not mean you're invulnerable to harm."

I looked away because, in truth, that had been a hope of mine. That the glass in the foot thing and my changing were the only pain I would have to go through. Like the universe owed me something for taking my memories. But it didn't. It didn't owe me jack squat.

Pitch sighed. "At any rate, no spirits have ever reported seeing Aether, and we haven't heard of anyone taking over for the original spirit, so it's a safe bet that if she does exist, she would probably be eons old, much older than me or any of my family. And, after that long, spirits tend to go a little mad." He twirled his finger around near the temple of his forehead and I snorted.

"Great. So there are _crazy_ old spirits running around out there?"

He gave me an amused look. "What do you think I am?"

"Haha." I punched him in the shoulder. "OK, so there's that finished. When do I get to learn how to pound people?"

Once again he heaved a regretful sigh. "You really want to learn how to fight, don't you?"

Good grief, with the amount of raising his eyebrow was doing it was surprising that it didn't stay up. I nodded emphatically.

He stood, gesturing me to follow. I did, bemused. Was he finally going to drop this theoretical paper-studying shit and take me seriously, or was this another gimmick? Neither of us spoke the entire journey down to the gym. My mind, of course, kept drifting back to Aether and all that stuff. So spirits had a god too? Interesting. And even more interesting that nobody believed in her anymore.

_What an amazing existence_, I thought, watching as the faintly glowing walls passed us by. _Ancient beyond time, and the sole keeper of all things magical. The watcher of the world. Or…something. Yeah, I hope my creed is as cool as that! _And I really hoped that one day soon, I would meet Aether herself.

We reached the gym in no time flat and upon entering the cave full of equipment and smelly clothes, Pitch beckoned me to the padded area near the back where the most open space was. I followed and when we got there he turned around and faced me. "Hit me."

I'll admit, I was a little thrown-off. "What?"

"I said hit me." He repeated. "You wanted to learn how to fight, right? This is how you learn." Pitch gestured to the mat in front of him. "There's no substitute for raw, down to earth practice."

"Right…" That made sense. And I really did want to fight but…I hadn't expected him to agree! But, in spite of that I kept my cool, calmly striding forward onto the mat and dropping into a boxer's stance, bouncing on the tips of my feet just like Jess taught me. My feet pressed firmly into the rubber mat and I raised my fists, guarding my face. Pitch hadn't even moved! "How're you supposed to fight me just standing there?" I demanded.

"Is that really your concern?" He asked, tilting his head to the side, regarding me with amusement. "In a fight, do you really want to know why your opponent is standing wrong? Or do you want to hit them? Don't answer. All you need to do is hit me. Or, at least, _try_ to hit me."

"What does that mean?" I asked, glaring. My muscles were rippling beneath my skin, not enough to show through that little layer of blubber I can't seem to lose which makes me look like the pillsbury doughboy, but I wasn't concerned by that right now.

"When I say hit me, I mean you should try your best to hit me. You probably won't. And that's OK. You're still a novice, after all and I've been doing this for centuries." He shrugged. "Just do the best you can and I swear I'll go easy on you."

He was trying to bait me. We both knew it. And yet I still felt my blood boiling as he continued to taunt me without even seeming to make it sound like a taunt!

"Why are you still waiting for me to strike first?" He asked innocently. "I thought you wanted to fight. I'm waiting for _you_, Meggie."

I kept my gaze fixed at a spot above his right shoulder, away from his face. Hands up. My legs were beginning to cramp something fierce. "I can't attack unless I know you're going to defend!" I told him angrily. "So raise your fists or take a stance or something!"

"That's not how I fight." He replied. "If you insist on wanting to learn how to fight, you must acknowledge the fighting styles of others. You're lucky I'm not proficient in Drunken Boxing because I would be using that, just to throw you off."

I shifted just a fraction. "What the hell is drunken boxing?"

"It's a fighting style. You know you should put more weight on your back foot. It's unbalanced."

I ignored him. My foot was fine. He was just trying to distract me. "I prefer to be attacked."

"Well that's a pity, because so do I." He replied flatly. "And we're not just going to stand here all day. I have things to do. So either attack, or go back to bed." His gaze was as unwavering as his voice. Alright. If he wanted it that way...

I charged, faking a right swing to his chest while I really aimed a kick at his shin to throw him off balance. I moved far too slow. He caught me by the arm that had faked the punched, stopped me dead in my tracks and, after giving me that damnable charming evil smile, twisted his own arm so that mind went back. Not painfully, but it forced me to turn in towards him. Pitch's other hand latched onto my shoulder and I was pushed back against him.

"Had enough?"

"Not by a long shot." Throwing my head back, I tried to head-but him under the chin but he leaned away just in time. I used his distraction to throw myself forward, breaking free of his embrace and when I whirled around to face him, I glared. "That wasn't boxing!" I accused.

"Whoever said we were boxing?" He replied, smirking. "I just said I would fight. I didn't say how."

Angry, I swung blindly. He blocked, skinny arm smacking against mine so hard it clacked my teeth together. And when he retaliated, it was swift and unrelenting- unlike _my_ fighting. They came, a quick one-two punch, straight to my shoulder and chest. But I powered through them and used my body as a battering ram to body-slam the Boogeyman, bringing him down onto the mat. He fought back, one arm clipping the side of my head which knocked me slightly silly, but it wasn't enough to get me off of him.

"Do you yield?" I demanded, pinning him by the throat. My other hand was latched around his wrist and, subconsciously I wondered why he was letting me win.

I soon found out.

Rather than answering me, Pitch simply rotated his wrist to break my grip and melted into the ground in a pool of shadows. I stared in disbelief.

"That's cheating!" I roared, outraged as his visage sank into the mat, lips still curled in a grin. I swiped at the mat but my fingers just met nothingness and I swore, getting up. "Where are you, you sneaky bastard? Too afraid to face a girl, so you hide like a-"

The cold touch of a blade on my throat totally silenced me.

"Are you finished?"

Not anymore. "Where the hell did you get a blade from?!" I demanded, careful not to glance down or risk slicing open my neck.

"Doesn't matter." He didn't even take the blade from my throat. "What does matter is that you were hopelessly outmatched, yet you fought anyway. And you lost. If I weren't someone you knew and this were a real fight, you would be dead. Do you understand?"

I snorted. "Yeah, I understand that you _cheated!_ If you hadn't have used your powers-"

"Power is the whole point!" He argued, his tone rising a few octaves. He sounded just a little bit miffed. "You don't understand yours, which puts you at risk of others using theirs to take advantage of you!"

"If you would teach me," I grumbled under my breath and, all of a sudden the cold disappeared.

"You still don't understand!" He growled and when I turned around he had backed up quite a ways. A hand massaged his temples, indicative of the clear pain in the neck I was being. "Meggie, this is supposed to teach you that you can't win unless you're on equal ground! Unless you know as much as your opponent does about yourself!"

"Well I'm not going to learn any about my powers or myself until you teach me!" I retorted. "We've gone over this!"

"Well we need to go over it again!" He roared back, clenching his fists. And then he charged me, fists raised. It was a pretty terrifying sight. His cloak billowed out like a tidal-wave of darkness while his eyes gleamed golden in the gloom.

I fell back into a defensive stance, waiting for the blows. But they never came. Instead he phased through me like the shadow he was, wrapping black tendrils of sand around my body, holding me tight. I struggled but the movement caused me to tip over and I landed, hard on the mat.

Pitch stood over me, arms folded smugly. "There. Maybe you'll listen now."

"Damn you, this isn't fair!" I swore, wiggling around to try and loosen up my hand but it didn't work. The sand was thick and unyeilding. Of course it was.

"That's a child's argument. You're a spirit. You should really start acting like one, even if you're a new one."

"Why can't I just learn as I go along, like you did?" I shot back.

"Because I got my ass kicked from here to the other end of the galaxies," he replied flatly. "Not to mention I ended up destroying quite a few civilizations in my youth. So forgive me if I seem a little hesitant to let you go picking fights."

"I don't mean the fighting. I mean learning about other spirits and stuff. Why can't I just meet them and-"

"How much heat do you think a human being can withstand?" He interrupted.

The statement threw me. "What?"

"40 degrees Celsius. Core body temperature. Spirits can handle quite a bit more but only if they are of a different species." Then he posed another odd question. "Do you know how hot a pyrean fire sprite burns?"

"I don't know but I can guess it's higher than 40 degrees Celsius."

"It's actually twice as much. The temperature of molten lava is how hot an adult pyrean burns. More than enough to char you to a crisp."

"I can outrun them-"

"Pyreans are singular among the elemental sprites in that they can use their heat to set the very air on fire, and in any area." He interrupted, smoothly overriding me. "You've now died twice. Perhaps third time's a charm? Care to try again?"

OK, maybe he had a point with all this book-learning crap.

"Alright, I get it I get it!" I grumbled, finally sealing the deal. No turning back now. "Just let me up Boogerman. I'm starting to lose feeling in my legs."

He raised an eyebrow.

I swear he was going to drive me absolutely crazy. I growled. "Grrr alright _fine!_ I promise that I'll listen to you about this whole reading thing."

The eyebrow lifted higher.

"_And_ I won't bother you about the fighting."

"That's better." Pitch snapped his fingers and the sand fell away. He extended a hand. "Now, lets go figure out what other craziness you've got hiding under that head of purple hair."


	21. Lullaby For A Grumpy She-Hulk

**Hey mortals, guess what? Super-update! I felt bad for all the waiting I've made you guys do for the last one, so I decided to give you a filler chapter that gives us a little bit of a closer look into the day to day lives of our little family. I know this one's a little rough around the edges but it's really meant to be. **

**Also, I am starting a playlist on youtube for this story. I haven't finished it yet, but please check it out. My youtube handle is jjbookluver and the playlist will be titled I May Be Dead, But I'm Still Rockin'! Each time I update a chapter I'll add a song to it, one per chapter. Any imput would be amazing and If you guys have any ideas for songs to add I will gladly take them! Hope you guys enjoy!**

* * *

A month. An entire flipping month without a new chapter! It was enough to make him _scream!_ It was bad enough the last chapter had ended on a massive cliff-hanger! The poor Changeling's will in the balance, her secret out to the Tooth Fairy, her magic on the fritz and all the useless Boogeyman could do about it was beat her up some more! And all _he_ could do was sit here and glare at an empty page, waiting.

Bard sighed, remembering Sherry's advice. "Any more stress like the Boogeyman affair and you'll have a heart attack," she'd warned. "Just because you're a great cosmic bookkeeper doesn't mean you can't take care of yourself. Do you understand me Bardajorin?"

It was true. Half-dragons were prone to heart conditions; mostly mild stuff like Arrhythmias, heart palpitations and the occasional painful twinge accompanied by shortness of breath, but he muddled through it. Hazards of being a half-breed and all that. It didn't help that he still had a piece of his heartfire missing either. Dragons weren't technically supposed to mate with humans and when they did, they were in a slightly less bestial aspect. If the mother was the dragon then the child would have been pretty safe but, in this case, his father had been the dragon which had resulted in quite a few magi-medical issues in his birth. Yet here he was, safe and sound. Relatively so, at any rate.

Of course he was still stressing like crazy about the lack of updates for the sequel to the Boogeyman, and who could blame him?

When last Bard has left the Changeling and her new-found family, she had been recovering from a massive breach in control of her powers. There were some adorably sweet scenes between her and Tooth, not to mention the father-daughter relationship between her and Pitch which, in all actually, made him giggle like a child every time he read it.

Currently, Bard was sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair looking at that same book, contemplating it idly. "The girl is really doing well," he said about to no one. Sherry was out again, probably partying with some of Dionysus's sprites. "Good character development, good persona, and she's not too powerful to make her seem obnoxious." He smiled, sure that the next chapter would be just great!

Bard had been waiting for an entire month which was pretty long for an update. Usually the chapters took only a week or so fully form. He didn't care though. He was impatient and liked to read along as the words formed on the page.

_It's probably taking so long because nothing much is happening, _he told himself, standing and making for the kitchen. Maybe food would help his restlessness. He hadn't been able to sleep since before that last chapter had appeared and certainly wouldn't sleep until this one showed up. _Sometimes I forget that this isn't just a story. That these are real people's lives I'm reading about, and not just characters in a book._

As Bard poured himself his sixteenth cup of coffee that day, he glanced back over his shoulder at the book. It lay, flat like a clap, open to the next blank page so that he could see the second text started to appear. _I might just have the most peaceful job in the world, _he mused_. I mean, aside from the anxiety and stress from waiting, the nail biting when the action gets too intense and the soul-crushing sorrow when I read about Meggie's nightmares._

And even so, he still wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Bard? Bard I'm home!"

Bard poured a second cup of coffee. Black. Just like Pitch's. He liked his more like Meggie did, with cream and flavoring. Butterscotch, normally. He glanced at the clock. Three in the morning, and Sherry left at ten. Bard topped the cup off just a little, betting she was going to have one killer of a headache.

But, strangely, the Sherry who appeared in the doorway of the Chroniclarium was not the usual sour, depressed dryad he had come to know and love. Instead of oozing over to the couch and laying down with a painful groan, like she normally did after a night of partying, Sherry bounced- yes that's right, _bounced_ over to him, giddy as a puppy.

Bard edged away slowly. "Um…Sherry? Are you OK?" She didn't look OK. Her eyes were practically glowing green, which was not normal even for a dryad!

Sherry giggled. OK, this was getting weird. Sherry _never_ giggled! The most she did was chuckle derisively! "Oh I'm fine! Just…peachy!" She hiccupped. "Oops, sorry. Hehe, too much chloroform."

So _that_ was it. "Alright, that's it. Drink this," he handed her the coffee. "All of it. Then so sit down and mellow out for a bit. It's enough I have to deal with Meggie going bonkers on them every two seconds. I don't need a drugged-out dryad drooling on my carpet. Go on, couch! Now!"

Sherry gave him a wobbly salute and tottered over to the couch, sloshing coffee with each step.

"You let that touch a single one of my books we're _done_ Sherry!" He called after her, picking up his own cup of coffee and downing it in one swig. "I mean it!" He received only a faint giggle in response. Bard sighed mightily and headed after her, making sure she didn't fall over and break her nose. "_The things I do for my friends_," he muttered, taking Sherry by the arm and leading her away from the mirrors she had stopped in front of, ooing and ahing like a toddler. "Come on, lets go sit down."

"Ok major Tom!" She said, prompting another roll of the eyes.

"Whatever. Remind me to put all your chloroform in a box and then chuck it in the sea." Bard sat her down on the couch carefully, extracting the cup from her now shaking hands. It was half empty, and he knew she hadn't even taken a sip. Oh well. More clean-up. "Just stay here, OK? I'll go grab a cold washcloth."

Sherry nodded, looking just a little ways past his right shoulder. "Pretty lights…"

Bard turned around, heading to the bathroom. "That is it! No more chloroform for her, ever!" Chloroform was an organically derived chemical made from plants which, when used on humans made them drowsy and loopy. Given to dryads, it had just about the same effects, minus the drowsiness. It was lucky she hadn't been partaking of fungus. Then they would've _really_ been in trouble.

The half-dragon reached the bathroom and ran the cold water over a waiting towel. Any change in temperatures would help counter-act the effects and bring her back around. This had been the fourth time in under a month Sherry had come home like this, and it was really starting to worry him. _I know I suggested that she get out a bit more,_ he thought, wringing the washcloth of any excess water. _But this isn't what I meant!_ Sherry was blatantly disregarding her safety in using chloroform. A single dose was enough for a regular dryad who was used to the stuff to keel over and start giggling, and who knew how many she'd had tonight!

When he returned, Sherry was flipping through the pages of the sequel slowly, watching as they rose and fell.

"Sherry be careful with that!" Bard rushed over and gently, using the hand that didn't have the washcloth, extracted the book from her green fingertips. Sherry pouted.

"It was pretty…"

He sighed, setting the book back down and handed her the cloth. "I know it's pretty, but I need that book to see what's going on out there." He told her patiently. "Now take this cloth and put it on your head. It'll help keep that stuff messing with your brain away for a bit. But you really need to stop using that stuff Sherry. It's bad for you."

Sherry hiccupped. "I know," she said in a small voice, looking at her feet. "I know, but-"

"But nothing. It's bad, Sherry. Do you understand?" He sat down beside her, laying a hand on hers. "Bad for you. Makes you loopy. And we don't want a loopy Sherry." It was best to revert to baby-talk when dealing with a dryad on chloroform. They had been known to lash out at the use of big words.

She pouted again and he thought he saw a little sliver of the old determination behind her eyes. "Loopy's better than sad." She muttered sullenly, turning away.

The half-dragon frowned. "What do you mean, sad? Is that why you take the stuff? Because you're sad for some reason?"

Sherry ignored him.

"Hey, come on Sherry, you can talk to me." He urged, raising his hand to her shoulder. "Please? Tell me what's wrong and I promise I'll try to fix it." Suddenly this all seemed a lot more serious. Something was having a profound effect on Sherry, making her very sad but she'd hidden it behind the chloroform and isolation.

"No."

"Sherry…"

"No! I don't wanna talk about it!"

Good gods, even doped up on chloroform she was still as stubborn as ever. "Sherry," he warned. "You need to talk to me. If you don't I can never make this right, whatever it is. Is it something I said?" He was trying to weedle more information out of her and it seemed to work.

"No. You never say. You never say _anything!_ That's the problem!" She spun around, eyes bright and tear-streaked. She'd been crying. "Every time I try to talk to you you're mooning over those books! What with everything happening, the story, you and your studying, and the fact that I can't leave my grove for very long, I never see you or talk to you anymore."

Bard was utterly thrown by the statement. "That's ridiculous. You live here! You can see me and talk with me whenever you like!"

"It's not the same," she insisted. "You've always got your nose in those books. You're letting them take over your life. When was the last time you got out of here and flew?"

Bard shrugged. "It's not safe to fly unless it's at night, you know that."

"Half of the day is night!" She responded hotly.

Bard didn't have the heart to disagree. "So what do you want from me Sherry? More time? Do you want me to stop doing my job? Because you know what happens if I neglect my duties."

"No!" She bemoaned. "I just want…" She looked at him with wide, green eyes the color of ferns in the deepest wood. "I want to be included. I miss you and I know that your work is important, but you never let me in on it! The closest I can get is you babbling about chapters to me!" And with that she broke down sobbing. "I- I miss you, Bard, so much when you're busy." She sniffed, hiding her face behind her hands. "And I thought I could keep the loneliness away with the chloroform. That didn't work out, obviously." She laughed bitterly.

Bard's heart nearly broke. He curled an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. "Hey, hey it's OK. It's alright Sherry, I'm so sorry I had no idea you ever thought about this." But she was right. He had been pretty wrapped up in his work which- if he had to be honest, mostly consisted of sitting on his rear and reading. All this moping around wasn't good for either him or Sherry, and he needed to do right by her. She'd been by his side through thick and thin, and had never once left him. Sure they'd had their fair share of scrapes, but what relationship didn't?

_And now, when she needs me most I was totally oblivious! Stupid, stupid!_

Sherry hugged him back. "I didn't want to bother you-"

"It's no bother!" He insisted, holding her tightly. "I care about you more than I can say! You've been with me for longer than I can remember and I never ever tell you how much I appreciate you! But I do!" Sherry started to cry crystal-clear fresh water tears again. He wiped them away gingerly. "Hey now, no need for that. It's OK, Sherry. Listen, it's fine. You're fine, I'm fine. Everything is fine."

That was a bit of an over-statement but, before Sherry could object Bard noticed a bright, pulsing light out of the corner of his eye.

He pulled away from Sherry, frowning. "What in the-" and cut himself off with a gasp. The book was glowing!

Sherry noticed too. "Why's the book glowing?"

"New chapter!" Bard internally winced at his almost squealing the words but it was still enough to make his heart race. "Sherry, there's a new chapter!"

She didn't seem to understand why but, in spite of that, she shrugged and leaned in intently. "What does it say?"

Bard shrugged, his hand shaking with excitement as he flipped the pages until he came to the last existing chapter and back-tracked until he found its beginning.

"Lets read it together." He suggested, putting an arm around her shoulder again, drawing her close. "How about that?"

Sherry looked hesitant.

"Come on, you said you wanted to be a part of my work." He teased, squeezing her shoulders. "Just curl up next to me, and I'll show you just what I've been dealing with in the last few months."

She nodded, following his lead. Bard lifted his feet- after taking off his shoes of course, up onto the couch and laid down with his head propped up by the arm and a pillow. Sherry laid down next to him, allowing his strong arms to wrap around her. The book was held up by the both of them. Sherry gazed at the paged just a few inches from her face. They glowed golden, like a rich sunset and the ink stained the pages with a humming black. "Will you read it aloud for me?" She asked and he couldn't refuse those bright green eyes.

"Of course Sherry." He cleared his throat. "Ahem. "Chapter 20, Lullaby for a she-hulk."

"What's a she-hulk?"

"Haven't the foggiest." He replied. "But that's the joys of reading; they normally explain it to you somewhere along the storyline."

"Oh. OK." She nodded for him to go on.

Bard began the chapter. "_Journal of Meggie, the over-worked Changeling, entry the blah blah, I'm too lazy to figure out which one sorry not sorry_. And it begins with, _Hello my freaky darlings_." He shivered. Sometimes it really did seem like this was being written for him to read. "_Yes I'm back. Yes I'm sorry for being gone to long but, well, you don't have time to write much when you're going shopping, learning fighting styles or practicing dance in your room._"

XXXXXXXXX

_You really don't. And that's not all I've been doing! I've been training like a madwoman, studying with Jamie and all the Burgess kids, basically running my ass into the ground every time I try to change, but it's definitely worth it in the end. At least, I hope it will be. Someday soon. Really, really soon. Because in all actuality, I can't keep tormenting my body like this._

_OK, sorry, let's go back a few steps. And by steps I mean weeks. It's been nearly a month since I last wrote in this thing and, let me tell you, it's been a crazy month. I never knew being a spirit could be so…busy. I'm constantly kept on my toes by Pitch and the other things that run around this place, hardly ever get a moments' rest any more- but that's usually because of the re-occurring nightmares which I still haven't told Pitch about yet. I suspect he already knows something of their nature, being the Nightmare King and all. But I can't be sure until he tells me himself._

_At any rate, life has certainly perked up for me._

I paused, chuckling to myself. "That's a bit of an understatement."

Once again the night found me sitting on my bed with my journal, writing down all the crap I'd forgotten to write about. Pitch, upon learning of my still keeping the journal some weeks back, had asked me if I wouldn't consider keeping up on it.

"Sometimes writing down your own thoughts can prove to be invaluable to you in the future," he told me. And, while I wasn't sure about that, it did help me put things in perspective a little bit. So I had followed his advice and here I was.

_The training schedule Pitch has chosen to give me mainly consists of basic exercises- running, jumping-jacks, racing, flying-racing, lifting weights, etc ect. But that stuff is so boring! So, when he's not looking I like to dress it up a little. Instead of running I'll put on some music from this badass playlist about a chick called Toph that Cupcake got me into and run backwards to the beat. Although I do have to be careful when I do that; last time I ran right into a wall. Didn't hurt much, but I got a nasty bump on my head and it was really hard to keep Pitch from noticing. I ended up having to put my hair in a bun and I swear on…something really important that I will never do that again! My hair ate the hairtie._

_You think I'm kidding but I'm really not. I was walking down the corridor when I heard a snap and a chomping sound and suddenly my hair was flying everywhichway, totally loose._

_Yeah._

_OK, back to training. He's __**still**__ not letting me fight, but the stuff we do get to do is pretty awesome. However, when it comes to exercise, Pitch's got __**nothing**__ on Tooth. When she comes over after a busy night of tooth-collecting and needs to expunge some energy, that's when we really get to have some fun._

_From what I understand, Tooth used to be some sort of Indian princess who grew feathers after her parents were killed. That part sucks, but the Indian part is awesome! The first time she came over after the…well…the puke debacle, she found me pumping iron in the gym and asked what I was doing._

I had to take a minute to chuckle again. Hehe. My first Indian dance lesson.

It had gone down exactly like I wrote it. I was pumping iron, bored mindless and listening to music. Pitch was out, doing Pitchy things- probably thinking up more mindless tasks for me to accomplish, and I was alone in the caves.

Or so I thought.

I swear that woman can move absolutely silently when she wants to! I didn't even hear her approach- hell, I didn't even know she was in the room with me until a soft, feminine voice asked, "Having fun?"

She had come up behind me, probably hovering on those beautiful gossamer wings. I nearly dropped the barbell. "Jeez woman, can you give me a little warning?!"

She giggled. "Sorry, but you looked so miserable just lying there. Miserable and bored, and that's never a good combination."

I pushed the barbell back onto its rack and sat up, my chest heaving from the exertion. Sweat poured down my face and I grabbed the closest cold towel lying ready on a small table to my left, pressing it against my face, letting out a sigh of contentment.

"That feel good?" Tooth asked. When I removed the cloth, she was still grinning.

I nodded, not in the mood for conversation. My training that day had started early- I'd spent an hour on that stupid bench alone, not to mention all the sit-ups before hand and what did I have to show for it? Sore muscles and the urgent need to go to the bathroom. What a pain.

Tooth sat down on the bench beside me, resplendent in her cleanness. While I was tired, sticky and rapidly losing my body heat due to sweat, she sat primly on the edge of the bench, hands folded in her lap like the queen she was. "I was hoping to talk to you about my offer," she began pleasantly.

"Offer, what offer?" My brain was mush. No lie. I was learning pretty quickly that excessive exercise in any form was the fastest way to knock me out, but not fast enough it seemed.

"Helping you re-align your chukras and whatnot." She explained, referring to our conversation post-puke. Ah, now I remembered. Though I hadn't the faintest idea what a chukra was. Tooth smiled and gingerly patted me on the shoulder. It took all I had not to wince. Gods my shoulders were burning. "But, now that I see you, it seems you're in more urgent need of physical relief than spiritual. How long has Pitch had you working like this?"

I shrugged. "A few days. This thing," I patted the barbell beside me. "Is supposed to help me lose weight and get stronger, but it's not doing jack nor squat."

The Tooth Fairy nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm." She looked me up and down. "You don't seem like you need to lose any weight, Meggie. Why are you?"

Again, I couldn't help but shrug. "It's what Pitch says will work," I replied. "According to him, if I want to learn to fight I need to be able to take a hit, which means bulking up my muscles. But it's not really working. I don't gain any weight or lose it I just…sort of stay the same."

Something in Tooth's eyes should have warned me I was going to regret telling her about Pitch's training program, but at the time I didn't think anything of it. She was just trying to help, and she had been reliable before. So why shouldn't I?

Looking back on it, I suppose it wasn't that bad a decision to tell her. Of course my muscles might've disagreed with you for the week that followed, during which I could barely move and had to hobble around like an old lady, but in the long run it did help with...stuff.

"Maybe you're not losing weight because you're doing the same thing over and over again." Tooth suggested, standing up but I got the feeling she was talking more to herself than to me. "Here, I think I might be able to help. Stand up and follow me."

We moved towards the center of the room where there was the most open space. Tooth kicked the rubber mats aside and told me to stand near the edge. "Just stand right there. Don't move. I'm going to put on some music." I took my place as she moved over to the black computer I had swiped from Pitch's living room. "Do you like Bollywood, Meggie?" She asked, typing something into the youtube search bar.

I couldn't help myself. "What the hell is that?"

She chuckled. "You're soon find out. Have you ever danced before?"

_Dance? Me? Nah, two left feet. I hope. Might get me out of this craziness that she's trying to drag me into. _"Nope. And I really don't care to now."

Suddenly, a chorus of bells and drum beats shook the floor, emanating from huge speakers Pitch had placed around the room. I was almost thrown off my feet as a woman's voice began to sing in a foreign tongue, her tone sounding like she was mourning but the music was too upbeat for that.

"What is that?!" I demanded.

Tooth came back to stand before me, grinning. "That, my dear, is Bollywood. Technically it's a little older than what I listen to but it works for the purposes of this lesson."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Nothing yet. Just stand there and watch and listen."

The beat was beginning to get faster and the clapping louder. "Listen to _what_ exactly?" I asked skeptically. "All I can hear is a women wailing."

"You'll see." She replied. "Just watch."

Suddenly, the song broke off and the room was eerily silent. For about a second. Then the fun really began. Tooth raised her hands above her head, bringing them back down in a prayer-like manner and I wondered what kind of dance this would be.

I swiftly found out.

It started as a smooth, bell-filled beat accompanied by female singers. Tooth put both hands on her hips and started to sway to the music. I watched closely, noticing how everything matched the beat. Her hips, her feet which were sliding back and forth, her head; everything was one smooth expression of music. Suddenly, the music began to pick up tempo and a man took the place of the woman as singer. Then Tooth really began to move.

One hand flew out to her side while the other rose up. Her left foot slid back in an elegant lunge before she twisted and turned her body around to face the other direction, all in the swiftest and most elegant of movements. I swear she never faltered once, lifting her hands above her head and twisting them to shake invisible bangles.

_She must've been doing this all her life,_ I thought, noting the way the music seemed to wrap itself around her in a cloak, dictating her movements. Each time they said a certain word or a beat returned, she would match the sound with a movement that fit in perfectly with the rest of the routine.

The Tooth fairy swirled around the room, turning her wings into a gorgeous sash that shimmered in the dim light, tapping her feet and twisting her form into all sorts of impossible positions, bending her back far enough to make me wince but it didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. She simply pulled her torso up again and continued.

I don't know how Indian people are supposed to dance but it was absolutely gorgeous. I couldn't imagine trying to do that myself, even though the song was certainly pulling at my arms and legs to join her in the dance. She didn't even seen to be sweating, no matter how fast the beat took her. Everything was a flash of feathers and spinning grace until, all at once, the song finished and Tooth sank into a final pose, head bowed with her hands placed at her hips, fingers laced.

I applauded and she lifted her head up, smiling. "Thank you, thank you." She took a bow. "But that wasn't nearly as hard as some of the moves I've managed to pull off."

My eyes must've been the size of golf balls. "They can get more complicated?!"

Her grin was all the answer I needed. Tooth crossed the room to the computer again. "So, would you like to try?"

_Of course you can guess what I said. Hells yes I wanted to learn! My muscles...not so much. It took a few days of rigorous work- which we both kept from Pitch because, well, according to Tooth men have this thing about wanting things to work right the first time. I didn't care wither he knew or not but Tooth said that it would be best if we kept this to ourselves, so I listened. Every time Tooth came over, we spent a good two hours that I was supposed to be using to lift weights in the gym dancing to various songs Tooth found for me._

_She started me out just dancing in whatever way felt right to, letting the music choose my pattern, but gradually she introduced me to more moves and had me follow along when she did it. And it was in this way that I learned I am not physically fit in the slightest. At least, not my Indian standards. Tooth was able to preform the most complicated routines imaginable while I could only twist a little before I was out of breath._

_Tooth assured me it was normal for a first-time dancer but I wasn't so sure. I asked her once, after a particularly grueling session in which I had fumbled multiple times, how dancing was going to help me be a better fighter. I asked mostly out of exasperation but was pleasantly surprised with the answer I received._

_Apparently, aside from being a great workout and a crazy amount of fun, dancing doubled as a fighting style all its own!_

_OK, maybe not a __**direct**__ fighting style, but according to Tooth there were plenty of humans all over the world that used dance as a form of martial art, the biggest and most popular of course being Capoeira, the Brazilian version of kickboxing, mixed with a bit of jujitsu and set to music._

_Tooth knew an alarming amount about fighting and martial arts, for a mother at least and of course I asked her about that too. Turns out the sweet, innocent motherly figure I met actually used to be quite a bloodthirsty warrioress but, in spite of all her knowledge, she assured me that was all behind her now._

_She said, and I quote, "For now, I'm just happy being an adoptive mother."_

_I didn't know quite what to make of that, so I just shrugged and went back to my exercises._

_Lets see, what else has happened in the last month? Oh! Tooth took me and Pitch shopping! That was cool. He found me rummaging through his clothes and was probably about to chew me out for it, but Tooth came to my rescue._

That certainly _had_ been fun.

As with most of the reasons I get in trouble, I was bored and went poking around places I shouldn't have. This time, it was in Pitch's room. In retrospect, not the smartest idea I've ever had but it _did_ give me an excuse to get out of the caves. Which, apart from my secret meetings with Jamie and the kids and I really couldn't count those anyway because it was pretty much a straight shot there and back, was the only time in a few weeks that I had been out of the cave.

When he caught me I was actually rifling through an open wardrobe near the back of the room. I'd done a fair bit of exploring the caves- getting my sneaky self into virtually every nook and cranny of these caves except Pitch's bedroom. Not that I really wanted to find myself in there, but natural curiosity is a powerful force and I just can't resist the lure of the unknown sometimes.

To be honest, there wasn't to much to peak my interest. Just clothes, mostly. Some books. I did a little poking around and found an old trunk underneath the bed. Curious about my find, I hauled the huge trunk up ontop of the bed and opened it. The trunk itself was a monster of black iron and leather, closed with an unlocked silver padlock. And inside...

"The leftovers of a theater troupe."

At least, that's what I _thought_ it was. On the top later were a bunch of folded clothes ranging from black suits that looked like something from the Italian mob- hat and shoes included; another, more elegant, black masquerade suit with black frills along the open vest and cuffs, complete with black cloak and mask, giving me the impression that this was a highway man's getup; a modern-looking leather jacket with silver buttons, an up-turned collar and a belt; and finally a timeless looking robe that didn't look too different from the one he wore today, apart from the high up-turned collar and thick gold chain attached.

"Wow, he really doesn't like changing his color palate." I murmured, holding up the highway man's outfit and giving it a critical once-over. I couldn't even _imagine_ him wearing this. The mobster outfit maybe, but not this.

"Meggie!"

I jumped like a kid caught with the cookie jar, but I didn't drop the outfit which was good, as it had to be very very old. Pitch was standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. His arms weren't the only thing cross.

"In my defense, I was bored. And, as you know, I cannot be held responsible for what may or may not happen when I'm bored." I told him quickly.

He snorted. "Oh, so you decided to go looking through my old clothes? I'd say that's a bit more than curiosity, my dear."

"OK, OK, so I went snooping." I admitted. "I'm sorry, but I really was bored! Also, did you actually wear this stuff?" I held up the mask. It had a massive hooked beak thingy and was stitched with silver thread.

"Indeed I did. And very resplendent I looked too." He replied proudly. "That mask is an 18th century Venetian original. Hand-tooled by Italian masque-makers."

"Woo. Fancy." Holding it up to my face, I peered through the eye-slits. "What do you think?"

He laughed. "It's made for a man Meggie. You look like Morrigan's awkward son."

"Who's Morrigan?"

"An old friend. Now will you mind putting those back neatly and leaving my belongings alone-"

"Pitch?"

It was Pitch's turn to jump. "Oh! Hello Tooth, didn't see you there!" He sounded so guilty I had to smirk.

"Hey Tooth." I greeted the fairy, smirking. "I was just looking through Pitch's stuff and man, you should see the old clothes he's got squirreled away!"

Her eyebrows rose dramatically and Pitch blushed. "It's not like that-"

"I think I should like to see some of these clothes," she said, grinning at the paleness in Pitch's cheeks. I didn't really understand what was so funny about that part but I showed her the highwayman's frock anyway. She giggled, holding the jacket up to Pitch's chest. "Oh my goodness this is something out of the middle ages!"

"Nineteenth century." He corrected, sniffing disdainfully with as much dignity as he could muster with two women going through his clothes. "Eighteen eleven, thank you very much. And I'll have you know it was the height of fashion."

"I'm so sure." Tooth replied, peeking into the standing wardrobe. "Goodness Pitch, when you told me that you didn't have anything else but your robes I thought you were kidding! This _has_ to be remedied!"

He looked at her suspiciously. "Remedied how?"

"Why, by going shopping of course!" She beamed, grabbing his hand. "Oh there are so many nice things I've seen that you would look great in! Why, the jeans alone-"

Pitch immediately brought her plans to a screeching halt. "Hold on a minute Tooth," he said sternly, pointing a finger at her nose. "These are my work clothes. While I appreciate the thought, I can't scare kids into being brave wearing jeans and a T-shirt. It's just not practical."

Her expression fell and, for a brief second, I thought she was going to fold but then her head popped up with that eternally bright and perky smile. "Then they'll just be for casual around the house wear!" She chirped, once again latching onto his hand and tugging him towards the door. "Come on, we don't have a moment to lose! What sizes do you wear Pitch?"

I had to fight hard not to chuckle at the look of utter terror on Pitch's face. Apparently men hate shopping. Or, at least Pitch seemed to, as he dragged his heels every step of the way. "Tooth," he whined. "I don't need new clothes!"

_Yeah, all-powerful Boogeyman my foot. He whines like a toddler when his girlfriend asks him to go shopping. Hehe. _It was still fun to watch. I lived for moments like this. Watching Pitch be tormented was what made all my own physical exertion worth it in the end.

"Yes, you do." She replied firmly. "You can't just keep wearing the same thing, day after day. It's gross and highly unhygienic. Oh and I'll need your sizes too Meggie." She added as she passed me, grabbing hold of my hand.

"Wait, what?" I snapped out of my mental humiliation of the Boogeyman just as Tooth reached the doorway, dragging us both with her.

"Your sizes, dear. Oh I saw some _darling_ t-shirts the other day in a little boutique that I hope will fit right!" She gushed, her wings buzzing like a swarm of bees. The flashing was making it hard to concentrate.

"Wait, stop hold up!" I yanked my hand out of hers. "Why do I need to come along? I've got clothes!"

Tooth spun around to give me a reproving look. "Now dear, one can never have too many clothes."

"Easy for you to say," Pitch muttered under his breath. "You don't wear any!"

She rounded on him. "What was that dear?"

We both saw the glint in her eyes and neither of us liked it._ Best not to provoke her and just go along with the shopping scheme Boogerman. _I mouthed, and thankfully he got the message. "Nothing sweet, I was just saying I could use a new set of clothes. And Meggie, haven't you been complaining about not being able to see very well? We could look for a pair of glasses while we're out and about." He suggested, grinning hopefully.

_Oh swell Boogeyman_, I grumbled. _Redirect it onto me._ _That's nice._

Tooth rounded on me. "You can't see very well?" She demanded. "Why haven't you told us this before?"

"Ehhhh, it didn't really bother me?" I offered. Then relented when she gave me another one of those disapproving motherly looks. "OK, OK, I didn't want to be a bother. It's not that bad, really. Sometimes I can't see writing more than a few feet away and after about six or seven feet stuff starts to get blurry. I didn't think much of it, really."

Tooth decided right then and there that we were going to have a full day's outing and marshalled us up to the surface. Pitch rode Onyx while Tooth and I flew, Tooth leading the way, to the small shopping mall Cupcake had frequented on the other side of town near the highway. When we all alighted in the parking lot I asked, "Won't somebody see us?" There were an awful lot of humans milling about.

Tooth chuckled. "Oh no dear. They can't, unless they're children who believe in us." She opened one of the massive glad double-doors, leading in.

Pitch cackled as a family who had been standing right in front of them- a mother and two girls, stopped right in front of the door which Tooth was holding open. "That's what makes going out like this so much fun." He tip-toed over to the second door which led from the little entrance hall into the actual mall itself, holding it open. Tooth giggled as the family moved inside and itch swiftly shut the second door, causing the mother to frown and glance behind her.

"Wind." She muttered, opening the door herself and ushering her two children through. Pitch made a mock bow, waving them forward.

I could tell I was going to have a lot of fun here.

_And I was right! The place didn't look big from the outside but the inside was absolutely enormous! Pitch assured me it had nothing on Santa Clause's workshop. I wasn't too sure what to make of that, but it was definitely a cool place. Everywhere I looked, there were shops. Clothing shops, game shops, sports stuff, more clothing shops, toys, bath stuff, even a bookstore! And all of it peppered with food vendors' stalls and packed with people, all clamoring to get what they needed. Like a huge bazaar, crammed into one building. _

_I'll admit Pitch had to drag me away from the bookshop forcibly, after I spent a good half-hour there just browsing while he waited impatiently. Tooth had long-since gone off in search of clothes for us and left Pitch in charge of me, which was awesome because I can walk all over him and not get in the least amount of trouble over it._

_He whined a lot, asking me to leave the books but I refused. At least, not until I had stowed as many as I could carry away in a plastic bag, taking extra care not to let the clerk see me. A cat did though. A little black one who had been prowling the shelves. I guess she was there to keep the mice away and I begged Pitch to let me keep her but he said no. She had a home here, the owner probably loved her, blah blah blah. But he didn't say I couldn't get another pet eventually, so I still have hope for that._

_After getting impatient and catching me in an arm bar, Pitch walked me out of the bookshop and didn't let go of my arms until I was too far away to remember which was the way back. Luckily for him, we ended up in the food court and that was where Tooth found us._

_I will never, ever, as long as I live, go shopping with Tooth. I will tell you that now. She is an utter maniac and I think Pitch would agree with me. Without even asking the woman dragged us both to a little corner clothing store jam-packed with blue jeans, sports jerseys and these funny looking shoes made form brown leather that had a green strip running around the rim of the toe area. Handing us each a pile of clothes, she order us into the dressing rooms._

_Most of the clothes she found for me were…alright. I guess. Not far off from the regular stuff Pitch had bought me. Blue jeans that fit half of the time, a few dark shirts. But the oddest thing of all which I found on the bottom of the pile were about four flannel shirts in varying colors, all sporting a checkerboard pattern._

_When I questioned her about this she just shrugged and told me it was cold in Burgess. So I left it at that._

_To be honest, most of it fit really well. I complimented her choice in styles the first time I exited the changing room, wearing a whole outfit she had given me. Jeans, black T-shirt, and a dark black and blue checked flannel. It didn't look half bad either. But __**Pitch**__, oh my gods, when __**he**__ left the changing room I nearly died laughing. Tooth had tried to set him up with a pair of black jeans which were supposed to be skinny jeans but they ended up being so tight he could barely walk around._

_I almost felt bad for him. Then I bet Tooth ten bucks she couldn't get him to wear skinnier jeans and she took it. I lost, of course. Poor lovestruck Boogeyman would do anything for his girlfriend. It was funny to watch. The second to last pair were so tight they looked like they'd been painted on, and after that he claimed he couldn't put them one any more._

_We had a good long laugh about that afterwards in the food court while Pitch just sat there, red-faced and exasperated._

_Once Tooth was satisfied with our new wardrobes, she packed the clothes into a couple of paper bags she had gotten from who knew where, Pitch whistled for Onyx and strapped the bags like saddlebags to her back, telling her to take them home. As I watched Onyx go I wondered how the humans could possibly miss this! A gigantic horse thundering through a marble-floored building with bags of clothes on her back. Which begged the similar question, how did they not notice the clothes missing and all the other stuff we'd done. Also, was it right? I voiced my question to Tooth and she answered in a way that made perfect sense, but was also a little sad._

_According to her, humans have only a limited capacity to understand things. And that capacity grows and ebbs as they get older. Children, for instance, are more susceptible and that makes total sense. With the clothes however, humans dealt with stuff like that every day. Things went missing, things were moved. It was just a matter of course. No one really suffers if a few sets of clothing disappear._

_Pitch added that humans are using far too many resources these days to make trivial stuff like clothing when there's already a surplus of it in the world. So, by their logic, one bag of clothes isn't going to hurt. Not when there are millions of homeless people on the street in need of food and clothing that don't get it, at any rate. Humans neglect their own species, and while we're meant to protect children and whoever falls within our creed, we aren't the advocates for the entire world. And if we benefit a little bit from their carelessness then…I guess so be it._

_I don't know, I didn't feel too badly about taking the clothes. They didn't seem to either which led me to believe that this was a common thing. Magic, it seems, can't put clothes on your back or food in your belly._

"Meggie!"

That was Pitch's voice. Damn. I was late for my lesson. "Sorry!" I called, slamming the book shut. _I guess I'll have to tell them about my glasses another time. _"I'll be right there!"

"Hurry please."

He didn't sound cross. Not that I expected him too. I was only- I looked at the clock. SHIT! Twenty minutes late! _Time flies when you're having fun-_

"Oh shut up." I told the little voice in my head sternly, hopping off the bed and I took off down the hall, hoping he was still in the gym.

He was, thankfully. I skidded to a halt, my chest heaving with the exertion of running all the way there. "Sorry!" I gasped. "Was…writing!"

Pitch nodded. "That's alright Meggie. Now, you remember where we were yesterday?"

My new glasses had slid down the bridge of my nose sometime during my race to get here and I slid them back up into position, nodding. "Yeah. Invocation, right? Trying to use my emotions to control the Change?"

"Exactly right. We were trying to work out something which would trigger a positive emotion in you."

Pitch's old theory about my powers being connected to my emotions was probably right. It's just we were having trouble getting some of those emotions to show themselves. I didn't get angry easily, or sad. Happy might work, but that was presenting itself to be a bit of an issue too. Everything that made me happy was right here; being with Pitch, learning, just existing was enough. And that wasn't strong enough.

Tooth had once suggested I try dancing, as that always made me smile and, for a second I thought I felt a twinge of the white-hot power, but then it was gone and I had to sit down to catch my breath. Right now, however, Pitch had decided a different rout to take. He had decided to introduce me, gently, to the potential of using fear as a power-source to fuel the change.

Now, initially, I wasn't pleased with the idea, since it seemed to be the exact opposite of what he was trying to teach me, which was the safe way of drawing power from positive sources, but as he started to explain it I found myself more inclined to believe it might work.

"Now, I know you might not want to do this," he began slowly, holding my hand as I tried to take the idea in. It was...foreign at best. What good could using darkness and fear possibly achieve? "But, for all its faults, fear is a very strong, raw emotion. It might help you unlock what keeps you from changing. And then we can help you channel it into courage."

"How does that work?" I inquired. He'd explained the basic mechanics of his job before, but this was a whole new can of worms. "I mean, if I start using fear as a power-source what stops me from using anger and other emotions?"

"Me." Pitch replied firmly. "I will keep you off the path of darkness. It's not just one step and poof, you're evil. It's a gradual process that some times takes centuries of cold isolation to turn a spirit from a productive member of society to a monster. As for the anger and sadness, they are very good sources of power, when used with the right motivation. Anger alone is nothing unless someone has a reason to be angry. Neither is sadness. Fear, on the other hand, always has a motivation, wither the person realizes it or not."

_Damn, and I thought Tooth was philosophical. _But I did get what he was saying. I had to admit, it did sound promising. We'd tried pretty much everything else, so maybe a fresh, new perspective might be the best thing for me. I only had one problem. "OK, so I get all that. But if we do try using fear, what will happen? Like, will I get terrified and change? Can I control it? Will I be able to change back at will or...?"

Pitch shrugged. "Depending on how strong the fear is. This sort of thing is totally unprecedented. I can't guess at the thousands of results we could get. It could work, it could utterly fail. All that matters to me is that you remain safe and aren't hurt by this."

Yeah, that mattered to me too.

"My little speech on motivation goes both ways." he continued. "You can't try to draw fear from a source that you don't have motivation behind. If you're not afraid of it for a reason, it's not going to be strong. But in the same token, your most personal terrors would no doubt be enough to hurt you, possibly kill you. And I would never imagine subjecting you to that. There is a balance that has to be formed and maintained, between weak and strong fears."

"OK. I think I'm ready to give this a shot." I told him, steeling myself. "So, how does this go? Do I just...think of scary things or what?"

"I think its best if I help you induce the state," he suggested. "Not using nightmare sand. That would put you to sleep and have the exact opposite effect that we want. No, I can use what you fear as a visual representation to get the energy flowing. That should be enough to induce the change and if its not I promise we won't push. The last thing I need is you going into a catatonic state."

I froze. Reckless or not, I did have some sense of self-preservation. "Wait, that's a possibility?"

He gave me a very strange look then. Equal parts amusement and regret. "Meggie, everything has risk. Breathing, for humans, has risk, but it doesn't stop them from doing it."

He did have a point. And we would never know if we didn't try.

"Alright," I told him. "What do you need from me?"

"Just close your eyes." He ordered. "And think of a thing you fear. Nothing big, just something as simple. Water, for example. I know you aren't a fan of water. And, while I don't want my caves flooded, if it works I don't mind. I will sense your fear and use the sand to create it, cementing the fear and giving you something realistic to defend against."

I nodded, but water wasn't at the forefront of my mind when fears were concerned. But I couldn't use what was, or risk bringing the whole cave system down on us. So I opted for a more...tame fear that I still could draw from. Namely, eight-legged demons from hell.

"OK, I can sense it. Open your eyes."

I did and right in front of me stood a monstrous black sand spider, clinking its pincers, staring back at me with beady eyes. I swear the instant I set eyes upon that thing I nearly jumped out of my skin. It wasn't exactly terror or fear that I felt. That thing certainly set my teeth on edge and had startled me, but I didn't feel the terror I had felt in the presence of the real monster.

The spider advanced, controlled like a puppet by Pitch who was watching closely. "It's not working."

"Yeah, that's because I'm not really afraid!" I told him, backing up. "I know it's fake."

"Well I'm not going to use a real one!" Pitch retorted. "Maybe if it attacks you. Should we try that?"

I told him to go for it, but I already knew what would happen. The spider lunged towards me and, as much as I tried to treat it as if it could legitimately kill me when I fought back, I found my fists aiming at impossible shots. The mandibles, for one. Those would chew my hand up and spit it out, probably while injecting poison.

"Come on!" Pitch urged. "You can do it Meggie!"

The spider swung at my with a leg, attempting to knock me off my feet but it just phased right through me. I knew this was a lost cause, so I stopped.

"Give it up Pitch," I told him. "I can't fight this thing and legitimately fear for my life unless I'm actually being threatened. I can see it's fake."

I wasn't sure what I said that triggered it, but before I could even blink a wide grin split across Pitch's face. A pit of regret started to form in my stomach and I wasn't sure if I was going to like what was coming next.

I still don't know if I liked it, strictly. But it did help.

Pitch told me to sit down and close my eyes again. "On no account are you to open them." He said firmly. "I can't tell you what is about to happen, but I can promise this will help you gain some idea of what your powers can manifest."

"Why don't I like the sound of that?"

"You shouldn't. Now close your eyes."

I did as he bid me and my world went black.

"Now, remember, don't open your eyes no matter what you feel or hear."

"I remember."

"Relax."

"How? I've got my eyes closed and it sounds like you're going to Chinese water torture me!"

He snorted. "Believe me, there are more creative ways to get someone to be afraid."

"You would know," I retorted and received a smack on the shoulder.

"Hush. I need to concentrate."

And there was silence. For a long, long time. It was almost as maddening as the darkness or this supposed technique Pitch was using to help bring my powers out into the light. I was very tempted to ask him if he was just going to stand there all day but I remembered his request that I stay silent.

As time passed and I began to grow impatient, I felt these weird tickling sensations crawling up my arm. I rubbed them away, feeling gooseflesh covering my arms, making my hair stand on end. The feeling didn't go away. I began to tap my feet, shuffle my fingers in and out of a laced position, hum under my breath, anything to relieve the intense, skull-melting boredom of just sitting here.

_I swear, it's like he's trying to drive me crazy. What good could this possibly be doing me? And WHY are my arms shivering again?!_

Angrily, I swiped a hand across my arm, sending something small and furry flying off. I froze, my hand still stinging slightly with the sensation. "Pitch…"

"It was nothing." He told me. "Nothing. Just keep your eyes closed."

Now this was most certainly not nothing, but I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and continued to wait out the silence. Something light settled on my shoulders. "Thanks Pitch, I was beginning to get cold." I tried to take hold of the blanket and wrap it tighter around me- the chill was utterly intolerable this far down into the caves, but as my fingers attempted to grasp what I assumed was cloth, they tore right through it like mesh or netting.

I still didn't open my eyes. "Pitch, what is this?"

He didn't answer.

The scurrying sensations returned and this time I knew it wasn't my mind playing tricks. Something small was crawling up my leg and over my arms, leaving sticky residue. Webbing. My heart began to race and though I knew, in my heart of hearts that this was just the sand and Pitch's magic, it didn't make it any less terrifying.

"O- OK Pitch," I stammered, grimacing as something skittered over my fingertips. "I think we're done."

"But Meggie, we haven't induced the change yet. We might not get another chance like this!"

Every inch of my body was tense and terrified. "Pitch, I am gods damned _petrified_ right now. If I'm not going to change, I'm not going to change. Now _please_ get this crap off me!"

"Just a few more minutes!" Gods above he was _begging!_ "Please? I swear if it doesn't work then we can stop but I want to see something first."

I gritted my teeth. "Fine. Five more minutes." _But I swear to Hades the next thing I feel scurrying over my body gets punched._

"Good."

It was not good. Not good at all. My brazen thoughts meant nothing as the things crawling over me started migrating up towards my face, causing me to start shaking from the utter and intense fear washing over my. I did my best to push them off, even though simply touching them made my hand tremble, but more just kept coming. It got to a point where I couldn't even move a muscle without feeling a hairy leg grace my cheek. Utter terror flowed through me and I knew Pitch could feel it. _Why_ wasn't he making them disappear?

"I don't wanna do this anymore!" I wimpered. My skin was crawling, literally, with sand-spiders and it was all I could do to keep from screaming. "Make them go away, please! Please make them go away!" No more courageous Changeling. Just a small, terrified little girl in a room full of spiders. They were spinning webs around my, tying me up. I could feel it.

"Not yet," Pitch urged. "Not yet. Focus, Meggie, use that fear inside you!"

I tried hard, I really did, but there were too many outside forces for me to focus on myself. A chorus of clicking and hissing had sprang up, like a song before a feast.

"Let me go…"

"Wait!"

"Please let me go."

"Just wait! I think you're almost strong enough. Feel the energy flowing through you, Meggie. I'm here, remember. You are still here, in the caves. Use that to ground your thoughts and emotions."

"I can't do it!"

"You can!"

"I can't!"

"Meggie listen to me, you can do it! You're strong, I know you are!"

They were crawling into my ears and over my eyes, spinning a blindfold. I opened my eyes but all I could see was blackness. "Let me out!" I screamed, trying to stand up but the webbing around my ankles caught me and I fell hard on the rock ground. I saw stars for a second, and then felt fire. Gorgeous, pure, white-hot fire burning away at the sand spiders infesting my form. But they returned in droves. I kicked and fought as hard as I could, lashing out like a wildcat but it wasn't enough. The pounced on me, rolling me up into a cocoon and I could feel my strength waning.

"Meggie?"

It was him. I raised my head and started to rip away at the webbing. _Why doesn't he just dismiss it?_ I wondered, feeling sticky strands snap and break beneath my fingertips. And suddenly the awful truth hit me. _It's not sand. It's real spider-webbing. _

My inner form began to shake, not with fear, but with rage. On the ground, kneeling like a child while I assumed Pitch loomed over me, though he didn't lift a finger to help. I raised my head and looked at him through the slit in the webbing I had managed to tear away, growling. Something was coming through my body, something strong. Something I had never felt before.

_An unknown form! I'm Changing, but I don't know what to yet! _Definitely something to massacre these spiders. I cast my mind back, searching for an image that would serve as my form. _Something big, really big._ Terror was still coursing through my body but it was the wild, exhilarated kind of terror. Like, I could feel I was about to die and the thought of such a challenge alone made my heart race and adrenaline pump through my veins.

Suddenly, an image floated to the forefront of my mind. A huge green monster, from one of the comic books Jamie had lying around his room. The incredible something or other. But I didn't need to know the name. All I needed was the face and body, which was easy enough. Big, green, rippling with muscles and tendon, and totally psychotic. Yes, that would do nicely.

Once again my eyes slipped shut as the Change over-took me. I had to keep that image of the incredible whatsit fixed in my mind, or risk losing it mid-transformation and that would undoubtedly hurt worse than the change itself.

The pain was immediate. All the screaming I had pent up was let loose from my mouth like a gale of wind; a horrible, bestial yell that sounded more bear than human. My skin stretched, my bones broke and re-aligned themselves, but rather than condensing into a smaller form I felt my organs and bones beginning to swell, like a balloon. Somehow, I fell over onto my back and lay on the ground, screaming, crying and roaring while the change began to re-mold and shape me. Like all the times before, pain was inevitable but it was still somewhat less than my previous attempts.

"Meggie!"

My eyes flew open. Pitch was staring down at me, looking worried.

I grinned. After the spiders, he was going to get a good few knocks to the head as well for putting me through this bullshit. Yes it worked, but this was torture. Pure and simple.

_I can't blame him, he was just doing what's best for me in his own way!_

"You _can_," I growled back to myself, curling my now massive green hands into fists and punching straight through the cocoon of webbing and into the spiders that lay beyond. "And _you will._ If the results were all that mattered, Pitch would probably still be hurting people to get fear."

Pitch, evidently didn't hear me which might've been a good thing. But he _did_ see me rising up like a tsunami of green terror from the mound of spiders which, now that I saw them, were in face sand creations. _Good_. Even _more_ reason to strangle the Boogeyman.

"Meggie, you did it!" He cried, looking like a bloody kid at Christmas. "I knew you could!"

I won't lie, I was pretty drunk off the power this form oozed. I was strong, massively built, and green. That was weird. But I could deal with being green if it meant being this tough. Spiders were about to start crawling up my leg and I smashed them with a trash-cap sized fist, much to Pitch's delight.

"Excellent!" He snapped his fingers and the sand dissipated. "Well done Meggie! Now, if you can, change back and we'll talk about this experiment."

I grinned and punched him right in the chest. The blow sent him flying across the room and into a wall. I tried to cackle, but only succeeded in letting out a low belly laugh that shook the caves. "HAHAHAHAH!" And I continued laughing all the way down the hallway as I headed off to bed. Once I finished this change, I was going to need sleep. A lot of it. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

XXXXXXXXXXX

Pitch Black was just about to go to bed. Tooth had told him she was going to work late tonight, it was sunday, he was tired and- more importantly, it was raining. He _hated_ going out in the rain and getting soaked, then having to go home wet and limp like a stray cat, absolutely _hated_ it! And that was why he wasn't going out tonight.

It was raining and- to make things worse, he could hear thunder echoing in the distance. That meant lightning, and that meant getting zapped and having his hair irrevocably spiky for hours and hours on end until the static cling that seemed to follow him like the plague dissipated. The children of the world could do without nightmares for one night, couldn't they?

"Well, if they can't, then they can just _deal_!" Pitch muttered to himself as he headed to his and Tooth's bedroom. He had been in the library for the last half hour, trying to keep the bad weather and sleep at bay with a good book but, as always, Sanderson's blasted strands found a crack in his armor and his eyes had begun to slowly close. Then he had pinched himself and said to the empty air, "Sanderson, if I am to fall asleep it's going to be in my own bed dammit!"

So that was where he was headed. To his bed, to sleep. Nothing too unusual about that.

Since the Fearlings had been purged from his system over a year ago, Pitch had adjusted to sleeping quite nicely, particularly if there was a nice, warm fairy sleeping next to him.

But tonight, Pitch was not fated to fall asleep on his bed.

Each step fell heavy on the ground as Sanderson's sand began to work its magic on him more strongly. Pitch felt his steps waver and his eyes closed briefly, then they snapped open and he grumbled, "At least let me get to my bed you conniving little creampuff!"

Then, as if in answer, Pitch heard a small sniffle coming from the other side of the hall he was oozing down.

Pitch swore softly. "Meggie..." He hadn't checked on her today. Dammit! Had some of his nightmares broken loose and were they trying to hurt her again?

_After seeing that stunt with the hulk, I think she can handle herself._ He thought, trying to hide his smirk.

Following their disastrous attempts to use fear as an emotional power source two days ago, Meggie had holed herself up in her room, refusing to come out. He'd tried everything he could think of to get her out- short of breaking down the door. Apologies had been met with swearing, bribes of food were answered in scorn. Even books hadn't worked. She was well and truly pissed at him this time, and he didn't blame her in the least.

Admittedly, he had gone quite a bit overboard and deserved the massive ass-kicking for what he had allowed to happen, which was why her silence was so worrying. Meggie wasn't usually the type to run away and hide from a confrontation-

_Or maybe she was. _

Pitch had to admit that, even after all that had happened, he _still_ didn't know that much about her. Maybe this was how she reacted to situations like this. He had no way of telling for sure.

In spite of that, he had still tried to coerce her out of her little hidey-hole, because she was his responsibility and the very thing that he didn't want to happen to Meggie was starting to happen. She was being resentful and hiding and he needed to fix it! But, at the same time, he knew he couldn't push too much or she would never come back.

Pitch heard another sniffle which was followed by a full-blown sob and the smirk fell. _It must be pretty bad if she's crying,_ he thought, moving towards her room.

"Meggie?" He called, coming to a halt outside the door of the room he had given her. Oddly enough, it wasn't more than a door away from his own. "Meggie, are you alright?"

Meggie didn't answer, but Pitch heard another sob and, while he did respect her and her privacy, he decided to check on her just to make sure everything was relatively alright.

"Meggie, I'm coming in." He said and turned the black knob. The door swung open and he stepped inside. He wasn't sure what he expected to see- the green thing that punched him, perhaps or the regular girl asleep and swarming with nightmares, but instead he found her wide awake, huddled on her bed in a little ball with her hair falling over her face like a thick, purple curtain. She was still wearing the blue jeans and black shirt with the strange flower design from the last time he'd seen her. The clothes looked dirty, torn and ripped.

She didn't look up when he opened the door, nor when he crossed the room to stand beside her. Only when he reached out and touched her shoulder did she raise her head, but when she did it was quick and she shirked back, hitting the wall with her shoulder and letting out a cry of pain.

Pitch bent down and pushed the hair back from her face. Yes, she had definitely been crying. For a long, long time. "Meggie, what's wrong?" He asked, reaching for her hurt arm but she turned away.

"Leave me alone!" She sobbed, pushing him with her good arm and almost sending him toppling over. "I don't want you to- to see me like this!" She punctuated the middle of her sentence with a hiccup.

Pitch was not deterred. "Meggie, it's alright." He told her, trying to sit down on her bed but she kept shoving him off. "I'm here to help you! Please," he cupped her chin in his hand. Tears were staining her face and he felt their wetness against his fingers, but he didn't pull away. "Let me."

Meggie shook her head, closing her eyes and trying not to cry more. She was clearly upset, but by what Pitch had no idea.

"No," She half-choked. "You'll laugh!"

Now this was just plain ridiculous, but he didn't tell her so.

"Meggie," Pitch explained patiently, taking great care with how he handled this situation. Meggie was _nothing_ like any spirit, child or even teenager he had ever known. Her mood could swing like the drop of a hat and, when it did, watch out! But this was something new. Something he had most likely caused. _I should have known she would be more susceptible to fear. This is all my fault!_ "I won't laugh." He promised. "Why would I? You are clearly upset, and to laugh at that would be just plain cruel."

She sniffed and looked up through her hair. It made her eyes seem oddly bright in comparison, but that was probably the tears. "You- you won't? You promise?"

Pitch nodded. "I promise," he said, taking his hand in hers. "Now, tell me what's wrong."

She nodded, but she didn't speak for a while. Pitch just sat there, on the edge of her bed, waiting patiently. Being the Boogeyman, he had developed a very long patience tolerance. Except where certain winter spirits were concerned.

Finally, when she did speak, it was in a quiet voice that he couldn't make out.

"I didn't hear you dear, can you speak up please?" He asked gently, taking his hand out of hers and putting it around her shoulder.

"I- I'm afraid."

Pitch blinked. "Afraid of what?" He asked.

"Afraid..." She took a deep breath. "Of the rain."

Pitch was silent for a long time. Words didn't seem enough to express his feelings at this moment, so he decided to stay silent and instead wrapped his arms around her shoulders, allowing her to lean his head into his own shoulder. She started to cry again. _I knew she was afraid of water, but this seems different._

"I know," she half-said, half-sobbed, burying her face into his robes. "I know! It's so stu- stupid! And I don't even kn- know w- _why!_"

Pitch put a hand on her head and stroked her hair gently, just like he had his own little daughter when she had woken up from a bad nightmare on a stormy night. "Shh," he whispered, holding her close. "Shh. It's alright. There's _nothing_ to be ashamed of Meggie. Being afraid of thunderstorms is perfectly natural-"

"No," she sobbed, pulling away from him slightly and turning her face away. "You don't understand! I'm not af- fraid of the th- _thunderstorms_!" She sniffed. "Heck, I would probably dance outside if it weren't r-raining. I'm afraid of the rain itself!"

Pitch allowed her to pull away, but when she told him about her fear of the rain he pulled her back and began to stroke her hair again. "That's alright dear," he said, trying to comfort her as best he could. He didn't know where all this new-found empathy had come from, but somehow it all felt right to hold her like this, to make her feel better. "It's alright. Plenty of people are afraid of water."

"Yes," she cried helplessly. "But none of them are afraid of the_ rain!"_

Pitch shook his head. "That's not true." He told her gently. "Plenty of people are afraid of the rain." Even though he couldn't think of any right now.

Meggie stopped sniffing, but her voice was still thick with emotion as she said into Pitch's robes, "But not like _me._"

Pitch sighed and started stroking her hair again. "Maybe, if you could tell me _why_ you're afraid of it..." he suggested slowly.

The instant the words left his mouth he knew that they were wrong. She seized up, like a terrified bunny and practically deafened him with her cry of, "NO!" Then she started trying to get away from him. "No! Please, don't make me see them! The faces, _so many faces!_ P-please, don't make me s-see!"

Pitch was almost knocked off the bed by her sudden movement but he kept his arms firmly around her shoulders and tried to make sense of this. Clearly, a bad memory was associated with the rain for her and he wondered what it was, then he dismissed it for the moment and tried to focus on getting her to calm down.

"Meggie, please, listen to me you don't have to see anyone!" He said, trying to get her to look at him but she just turned away. She was crying again. "Please Meggie, don't cry. Don't cry, please."

Meggie fought, but eventually she tired herself out slumped forward in Pitch's arms, practically asleep with exhaustion and fear.

"I keep seeing faces," she whispered into his chest. "So many faces!" She sounded almost heartbroken and Pitch wondered just what horrible visions could reduce the sarcastic, peppy girl he had seen before to this crying mess.

"It's alright," he whispered to her, beginning to stroke her hair again. "It's alright. I'm here now. Nothing's going to hurt you. You don't need to be afraid."

And then, he did something that even he hadn't expected himself to do. He began to sing.

"Little child, be not afraid. The rain pounds harsh against the glass, like an unwanted stranger. There is no danger. I am here toniii-ight." His voice was deep, slow, and soothing and Meggie even stopped sobbing to listen. Pitch continued stroking her hair. "Little child, be not afraid. Though thunder explodes and lightning flash, illuminates your tearstained face. I am here toniiight." His voice picked up a few octaves and he bent down to brush away her tears with his thumb.

Meggie didn't object.

Pitch was pulling this all from memory, so it took him a few seconds to come up with the chorus. "And someday you'll know, that nature is so. This same rain that draws you near me falls on rivers and land. And forests and sand. Makes the beautiful world that you see... In the morning."

He shifted his weight and Meggie, enchanted by the song, moved with him and soon he was laying against the pillow with her nestled up against him like a little kitten.

"Little child," He continued quietly, making sure not to go too high. She was breathing normally now, with only the barest hint of a sniffle. He moved her hair back again and allowed shadows to leak from his fingertips, creating pictures to go along with his song. "Be not afraid. The storm clouds mask your beloved moon and its candlelight beams still keep pleasant dreams. I am here tonight." The shadows took on the shape of the moon and a cloud that covered it. Meggie watched with wide, teary eyes.

"Little child, be not afraid. The wind makes creatures of our trees and the branches to hands. They're not real, understand. And I am here tonight." The shadows took the form of trees with hand-like branches and they reached in for him and Meggie, only to recoil. "And I hope that you'll know, that nature is so. This same rain that draws you near me falls on rivers and land," The shadows took the form of a winding river. "And forests and sand." The same forest that he had played in with Seraphina. "Makes the beautiful world that you see... In the morning."

Then the shadows disappeared and Pitch turned her face towards him. "For you know," He said, looking straight into her emerald eyes. "Once even _I_ was a little child. And I was afraid." He waited for one beat of his heart, then two. "But a gentle someone always came, to dry all my tears, trade sweet sleep for fear and to give a kiss goodnight." He brushed the tears away again and then bent down to kiss her forehead. "Well now I am grown, and these days have shown: The rain's a part of how life goes."

His voice was softer than silk, gentler than velvet and she couldn't help closing her eyes to try and lose herself in its mezmerizing melody.

"But it's dark and it's late, so I'll hold you and wait. 'Till your frightened eyes do close."

And then, to his surprise, Meggie opened her mouth and began to sing along. Despite her crying, her voice was perfectly-pitched, steady and did not waver once.

"And I hope that you'll know, that nature is so. This same rain that draws you near me falls on rivers and land, and forests and sand. Makes the beautiful world you see... In the morning."

They both stopped, then as one half-sang, half whispered, "Everything's fine in the morning. The rain will be gone in the morning."

And then Pitch said quietly, "But I'll still be here, in the morning."

And then they both fell asleep. Pitch, with the strange girl in his arms and Meggie, feeling better on a rainy night than she had ever felt in her short time as a spirit.

About three hours later, Tooth finally finished her last tooth run and decided to head back to the caves, ready for a decent night's sleep with her Boogeyman. But when she came in, she heard soft snoring sounds and when she investigated she found them there, sleeping like babies.

"Oh this is just precious!" She half-whispered, half cooed as she brushed hair away from Pitch's forehead. Then she left as quietly as she had come, figuring they both needed a little more sleep. And Sandy, if he knew about this, would probably kill her for disturbing them.


	22. European Inferno

**Dude, I am on a roll! I had no idea i could write this chapter so quickly but here it is. The next two should come just as quickly- I hope, but after that it's back to school. Hope you enjoy this! I certainly enjoyed writing it.**

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Good dreams come and go with me. More often than not I'm stuck in some hellish nightmare each night, and the night Pitch sang me a lullaby was no different, save one. I wasn't asleep when the nightmare hit me.

All the pain and exhaustion running through my body following the reversion back to my normal form had long-since vanished and I was actually sitting on my bed, attempting to read myself into another book like my namesake could. Of all my abilities, this one had been the most promising and I had the most hope for. And the one that was giving me the most trouble. At least my changeling was giving me something to work with! But every time I opened a book and started to read I got zilch.

Jamie had high hopes for me though. From what he said, the ability to read myself into a book wasn't limited to just a book. I still wasn't sure what that meant but one of these days I was going to test it. Just...not today. Today I was forcing myself not to fall asleep, because I knew what would be awaiting me behind closed lids.

Faces. Unknown, screaming, angry faces. Ghosts of ghosts. Wraiths, eternally berating me for something that I didn't remember doing- or not doing -and while I was trying to put the lack of past in the past and forge a new life with Pitch and Tooth, I still had doubts that that unknown history would return to haunt me.

I sighed. "OK, lets try this again. _Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley of number 4 Privet Drive were pleased to say they were perfectly normal thank you very much. They were the last people you would expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they didn't believe in such- _Oh for pity's sake!" I dropped the book. "This is ridiculous. I'm not even sure I want to go into a lame book about wizards anyway! At least the Hobbit had some cool creatures!"

I was miffed. But only because I'd been reading and re-reading the same few pages over and over again, trying to force myself into this world of wizardry. Jamie had lent me the book as his version of training, though I almost wished I hadn't told him and the other kids. At least I would have one less book to worry about.

Surreptitiously I glanced over at the abandoned book Pitch had asked me to read about other spirits and I had almost given up on it, mainly because it was so boring! I loved to read, that wasn't the issue. I wanted to meet these spirits myself, not look at their pictures.

_But that isn't going to happen until I can prove to Pitch that I'm not a delicate little flower and can hold my own out there! _Gritting my teeth, I put the wizarding book down, exchanging it for the spirits book but when I held it up to my face, the words were all of a runny slab of meaningless black symbols. Actually runny, that wasn't just a figure of speech. The ink dripped from the page,

I couldn't focus, so I put the book down and laid back, hoping for a little less than dreamless rest. Hell, maybe I could just relax for a bit and then finally leave my room to accept Pitch's apologies.

_Gods, what a pansy. After getting thrown against a rock wall he comes crawling back to me, begging for **my** apology and trying to bribe me. Some all-powerful Boogeyman. _

In all actuality, I was pretty ticked at Pitch for what he had done. But he did it with the best interests at heart and it had produced the desired effects. So, after a long discussion with myself I decided to hold no grudges. But that didn't mean I was _totally_ going to let him off the hook. There's a reason purgatory is sometimes worse than hell. I kept him in limbo for two whole days, silent as the grave, listening to him grovel and bribe me to speak to him or to let him it. Funny thing. He never even tried to open the door.

Call me a sicko but I think it was a pretty good punishment. At least it would ensure that he not do this again, and I got the satisfaction of hearing the Boogeyman apologize to me. Who was the master of mental manipulation _now_ Pitch?

I sighed contentedly._ And the best part is, he'll never figure it out._

My eyes drifted shut just for a moment, then I opened them again. I was debating wither to sleep or to try and keep reading; both choices were tempting, although I'd been sleeping for the better part of the day, and if I slept now I would be awake for the better part of the night. Which wasn't that big a deal, as we were underground and time didn't mean much when you're in a small room with no natural light aside from a fire.

Indecision kept me still, but my mind kept wandering never the less. It was a sort of thought paralysis I had found myself under many times, and most often when I'm tired. A calm, localized stillness falls over my body and I lie there for hours, not moving. Just thinking.

_This wasn't such a bad idea after all! I get a few days of rest and relaxation for my muscles, Pitch gets a guilt trip or two to keep him from getting cocky, and we both get some time to ourselves! Win-win! Plus I get the satisfaction of knowing I one-upped him. Hell, I might get that engraved in gold on a plague. Beat the Boogeyman. Yeah._

That would be cool. Not as cool as finally mastering some of those dance-steps, but cool. I stretched a bit, extending my arms and as I lifted my head up from the pillow I caught the faint sound of drums vibrating through the ceiling and walls. At first I wasn't sure what it was. People running above-ground, maybe?

_As long as it's not rain. Dear gods I hope it's not rain. _I was already starting to feel the tightness in my chest at the mere mention of the word. _Breathe! _I ordered, forcing my eyes closed. _Breathe damn you. It's just a little rain! _

But it wasn't just a little rain. Not for me.

For me, it was a racing heartbeat, shaking, sometimes nausea and inability to calm myself down by any of my usual techniques like slow breathing and meditation. This was my bane, my curse. The one thing I couldn't beat, no matter how hard I tried. And I tried _so hard!_

The first time it happened, I thought I was dying. The shaking, queasiness and hyperventilation had be on the ground in seconds, curled up in the fetal position crying, it was enough to put me into a literal coma for a week! When I woke up it was like waking up from death. Or a really bad change. Everything felt broken and I couldn't see straight for several days. I had to have Cupcake lead me around like a blind woman.

And it didn't just happen once. Every single time it rained I ended up curled in a ball in the closet, sobbing my eyes out as the water poured down. And then I would start to hear things. Voices, very faint but just enough to cause my teeth to chatter. Screams and sobbing that wasn't unlike my own and, when it mixed with the sounds of rain, became a secret concert of haunting melody that only I was privied to hear. One which I wished I could rip up my ticket for, but knew I couldn't.

_Let me out..._ they whispered now in soft, whispery voices that at first sounded gentle, but the underlying hissing betrayed their intent. _Gods dammit you spineless sack of meat and bones let me out. LET ME OUT! _

"No, I won't! Whatever you are I won't let you out!" I was speaking to an empty room and, on some level I knew that, but I didn't care. The voices certainly didn't. And I wanted to know. I wanted to know so bad, but all I got was more mystery.

_Don't run sissy, please don't run! Don't leave me all alone in the fires and the rain! It's so smokey, I can't see! Please don't run!_

"I won't run!" I promised, feeling the shaking of my body rock the whole bed. "I w-won't!"

_She's going to run away, like she always does. _Sneered the voice. I couldn't determine a gender, but in the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter.

_Liar. You lied to me! You said you'd keep me safe!_

_She always lies. The bitch._

_But...but she promised!_

_She lies. Get used to it._

_Monster. You're nothing but a monster. _

"I'm not listening," I pulled my pillow over my head; anything to get away from the voices and prolong seeing the faces, which I assumed I was not long for and was determined to keep it at bay for as long as possible. That younger girl's voice was especially painful to listen to, because I know it belonged to the younger girl I'd seen in my dreams. "I'm not listening!"

But I was. And that was the sick part. I couldn't _help_ but listen to it. It was a twisted lullaby that wove its way into my brain, blotting out all else. But at least that was better than seeing the faces.

"Oh gods...the _faces!_"

If seeing darkness in darkness is even possible, then that is what I saw. In the gloom behind my eyes, there was a lesser darkness. A lighter darkness that took the form of faint silhouettes - very faint, like steam rising up from a pot of boiling water. There were gaps in the darkness, indicative of wide, pleading eyes and mournful mouths.

They showed up in the same instant as I started to think of them. I had my eyes shut tight and could feel my body subconsciously curling in on itself which made me sick to my stomach, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. _Ugh...I don't think I can handle this! Maybe I should just pass out now and save myself the pain!_

But I didn't. I _couldn't_. The voices kept me up and now that I could see the shadows of the faces, there was no escaping it. The pillow wasn't doing me any good, so I ditched it and sat up, holding myself as I rocked back and forth, whispering, "They're not real, they're not real. I'm just seeing shit. They're not real!"

Tears were running down my face, blurring my vision but somehow it made the faces more visible. Clearer, in the muddied darkness. Oh, they were real alright. As real as I was, maybe even more so.

"They're not real! *hic* They're not real!"

"Meggie?"

I swore. It was Pitch. He must've heard me sobbing. I couldn't let him see me like this. He would never let me out of his sight and then I would live the rest of my existence as a fragile doll in his protection. No mother-effin' siree!

But he didn't. After a few minutes of tense waiting he barged in without a moment's notice, scaring me out of skin. I could still see them, lurking in the corners of my eyes so I kept my head down, attempting to control my breathing.

_You can do this,_ I told myself sternly. _Breathe in, breathe out. You can do this. Just tell him to go away._

"G-go away!"

_Oh gods, _I moaned. In my head it sounded to firm and assured, but when I said it aloud I sounded like a terrified little mouse. And it did absolutely nothing to make Pitch leave. He sat down on my bed, asking me what was wrong but I jerked away, not in the mood for pity.

But pity, it seemed, was not on his mind so much as comfort. Even when I shoved him away he kept trying. _Maybe he does care and it's not pity... _He put his arms around me gently. "Meggie it's alright," he took my hand. "I'm here to help you. Please, let me." It was a sweet gesture and, in spite of everything it actually worked. Somehow, talking to him was able to calm me down enough to stop the hyperventilating.

But I still wasn't totally convinced. "You'll laugh!" I accused.

He promised he wouldn't, and he kept his promise when, after a long time of waiting I finally told him why I was so terrified. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest. I felt...relieved. Sated. At peace. My body, not so much.

And then Pitch did something that totally surprised me. He began to sing. A lullaby, to be exact. One I'd never heard before but it was sweet and from the heart and I immediately felt sleepy upon hearing it. I fell asleep in his arms, resting my head gently against his chest and I have never had such a restful sleep in my entire life.

XXXXXXXXXXX

When I woke up, the sun was going down. I could feel it through the walls of my room. We were so close to the surface and, now that the weather was _finally_ growing warmer, each time the sun set the earth around me grew hot to the touch and took hours to cool. Which meant no more freezing nights! Hoorah!

I think that was why I had such trouble opening my eyes. It was so warm and I was surrounded by comfy pillows. I snuggled into them, beaming in spite of myself. All the old aches and pains were totally gone, replaced by a pleasantly warm, tickling sensation that spread throughout my entire body. I swear I wanted to sleep forever, but as soon as my mind crossed over from the black void into the world of the conscious I knew that I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.

"Well, at least I managed to go to sleep," I murmured, sitting up and yawning massively. Then something beneath me moved and I froze. Slowly moving my head, I turned to look down and saw a familiar black V-necked robe and gray skin, leading up to a neck and finally a face resting gently against my pillow.

It took all I had not to scream and jump out of my bed. _What the hell is he doing here?! What am __**I **__doing here?! Is this even my room?!_

A quick look around assured me that yes, this was in fact my room and I didn't need to start panicking yet. _Yet_ being the operative word. Gently, carefully, I wriggled out of Pitch's embrace and clambered over to the edge of my bed, stepping gingerly to as not to wake him up. That was the _last_ thing I needed, especially in an awkward situation like this.

Wait a minute, why was it awkward? I fell asleep in his arms after-

"After the lullaby!" I smacked my forehead, wincing at the noise which made Pitch move a little in his sleep. "Of course, gods I'm such an _idiot!_" I almost chuckled. How could I have even thought that? He's like a father-figure to me! _Plus he would never. And I would never, unless I was super drunk or something. Did I get drunk? Can a spirit get drunk? Maybe I did get drunk and I didn't know it. But he wouldn't have taken advantage, not with the way he treats me. But all the same, this could happen with some other spirit. And then... Ugh, best not to dwell on those thoughts._ "Maybe I should wake him up..."

But he looked to comfortable lying there that I couldn't bring myself to do it. And, since he was asleep it gave me a limited amount of freedom to roam around without worry. Until he woke up, that is. And the way he was sleeping, it wouldn't be for a long, lone time.

I brought my hand to the wall of the room, feeling the pleasant, warm energy flowing through my palm, melding with the warmth already flowing through my body. Ahh, that feels nice. _It must be dawn, or dusk. Either way the perfect time to go out and take a flight or something. Something to clear my head, and let me think. _

"But should it?"

_You deserve a break, _that little voice urged._ Just go, grab some food and go exploring. Day or night, it doesn't matter. Just go have fun. Pitch would want you to._

He would probably also urge me to wake him up first and tell him where I was going. But I didn't want to risk him telling me no, so I write a quick note and left it by him on the pillow. It read as follows:

_Hey Pitch. Thank you for what you did last night, I severely needed someone's shoulder to cry on. I'm sorry about the green monster thing and I hope I didn't crack too many of your ribs. Though you do deserve it. And I swear by nirn's nose if you EVER, and I mean EVER use spiders against me again- or water for that matter -I will drop-kick your ass all the way to the Eiffel tower and leave you hanging from the top by your underpants. I've gone out for a while to clear my head and take a few hours to myself. I'll be back later. Don't know how late, but don't wait up for me. Sincerely, your resident pain in the ass._

_Quaint, _the little voice commented. _But do you think resident pain in the ass is too much?_

"What? I am..."

I set the note on the pillow, went to grab my cloak from the ground where I had dropped it the other night at the foot of my bed, just in case there was a chill in the air and as I knelt, greasy strands of hair fell over my face. I picked one up gingerly. _Ugh... that is disgusting. I'd better take a shower before I leave. _

Yeah it was risky but I didn't care. If he woke up I could just dodge and fly, like I'd done a few times with cupcake. It might not work with Pitch, since he had that damn sand-whip stuff but I was willing to take that chance.

So, after a quick shower, I changed my clothes into something cleaner and headed out into the night, excited by the thrill of being free and clean. _That...sounds wrong. _OK, I was excited by the sensation of being dirt-free and uninhibited by watchful eyes._ Yes, that's better. _I was planning out my diary-entry for later.

As soon as I got above ground a strong thermal whisked me up into the slipstream and I leaned into it, climbing above the treeline and letting the wind dance its see-through fingers through my cloak and hair. Though the latter less so because of how damp it still was. Gods I had missed this. Before it had just been back and forth, back and forth. A lowly commute from the caves to Jamie's house under the radar. But now, now I could fly as far and as fast as I wanted! Maybe even across the sea!

_Now now, you remember how it turned out last time._ I chided myself.

"Well I won't be going the whole stretch alone this time!" I retorted, turning my gaze east towards the sea. I knew exactly where to go from the last time. True it had been a beach but there were ships too. "If I get tired I'll rest on a ship!" There were bound to be barges or cruisers or something going across to Europe, right? And I had so been wanting to visit there. From what cupcake told me, the place was beautiful. But Pitch had said that it wouldn't be wise while I was still young and inexperienced to take me across the pond. He had promised to, one day, but I guess I was going to beat him to it.

_Just one quick visit,_ I promised myself. _One fly-around London and then it's home. Got that?_

The little voice didn't answer and I was forced to conclude that it didn't like my plan. Well, tough cookies! I was going and that was that!

Pennsylvania was a land-locked state, but not by much. Only New Jersey and the Delaware which opened out into the sea stood between the ocean and me. Still, I decided to head up to Chatham anyway because it was the point from where I had started the last time and it was familiar. The harbor wind stank of fish and sea-salt, but I enjoyed it nevertheless. There was a massive ship just now heading out to see and I kept pace with it for a while, but it was slow. _Painfully_ slow.

"Good gods," I asked the seagull who was flying below me. "Does this thing even get two knots?"

Knots were a nautical term for miles per hour, according to Monty who was a ocean-enthusiast. He'd once lived right on the edge of the sea with his lawyer parents and loved it, wanting to learn everything he could about the sea and what it held. I admired his tenacity, even when I had to listen to him yammer for hours upon hours. It was good that he was learning about something he was passionate about.

"_Uuuugh!" _I moaned, doing an idle somersault to dodge another seagull. "This is soooo boooring!" The trip was going to take forever if I kept close to the ship so, against my better judgment, I flew on ahead but just far enough to keep the ship in my sights. The last thing I needed was another _I told you so_ from Pitch.

Flying above ground is one thing, but flying over the open ocean is totally enough. It's a kind of freedom that one can hardly describe, but it's really close to that warmth and comfort I felt upon waking up. Even with the spray in my face and my hood rippling against my ears, I felt alive and happy. "WHOOHOO!" No one heard me. I did a couple of simple tricks for no one but myself and it felt amazing!

In all actuality, the trip didn't take me that long once I ditched the ship. And by the time I started to see land, it was barely nine at night. Lights from the shoreline twinkled in the gloom and I could see even more ahead, so instead of stopping I headed onward, following the peninsula of land and up into a cove.

As soon as I reached a beach I stopped and stared in utter amazement.

"Wow..."

The beach around me stretched on for miles and miles in both directions, the sea at one end and at the other a mess of towns, houses, more water and two small islands near the mouth of the inlet. Everything was gorgeous, green and tranquil. No one was here that I could see. No one to disturb me.

I walked along the beach, heading up into inlet, feeling the wet sand squelch against my toes with such a satisfaction as I have never known. My heart was pounding form the flight and when I reached dry land, I sat down on a log and gazed across the water at the faint lights and sounds coming from the distance. Sounds of boats' anchors being dropped and the laughter of people echoing behind me. I smiled.

"I'm a stranger, in a strange land."

_Well, it's not going to remain strange for long!_ I decided, getting to my feet and heading up into the town above. Flying, of course. Walking wasn't even an option, as there was quite a gap of water between the beach I was standing on and the town itself.

I found my way over the bay and alighted gently on the dock, gazing in wonderment. It was night, but there were still people sitting in chairs outside the Pizza Express, workers trundling into the gigantic building marked _Altradius _or going into the gray red clock tower I could just barely make out.

My eyes lit up. "That must be the famous Big Ben Pitch told me about!" I bolted over the chains on the seawall like a bullet, staring in awe. It was huge! Not as big as I expected it to be, but it was still huge! "Just my luck, I run aground right on the steps of London!" I squealed, dancing excitedly. "Oh I knew I would find it alright! I just _knew_ it! Just wait until I tell Pitch!" I was prancing around like a madwoman on the dock, so giddy at the thought that finally I had managed to do something on my own and not get in deep shit.

There was a metal plaque on the side the building and I raced over to read it. My joyful expression drooped. "_This tablet erected to commemorate the centenary of the west dock Cardiff by the most honorable John Critchton Stuart..._ This isn't Big Ben at all! This is some phony!"

I glared at the building in disappointment. I wasn't in London, I was in some place called _Cardiff_! Which, when I did a little poking around the pier, I learned was in some place called Wales and not England at all!

"Damn, flew to the wrong place!" I grumbled, kicking a stone into the water. But I would not let it get me down! London _had_ to be around here somewhere! So, with a slightly disappointed heart I headed out again to find my destination.

Looking back on it, I really should've looked for a map first. I flew around in endless circles, scanning the landscape for something that looked like the little clock-tower on the pier. But there was nothing. Just miles and miles of trees, water and towns.

The countryside was utterly gorgeous, so I didn't consider it a total waste of a trip. I stopped for a while in a little town called Bryncethin. I could barely pronounce the name, but it was sure beautiful. Mostly houses, built all together in one section with woods and fields at their back and a cute little stores in another section, connected by a small roundabout. The view was spectacular, especially when I sat on top of one of the houses over-looking the fields and trees.

"I could stand to live in a nice place like this..." I murmured, tucking my knees up under my cloak. I was sitting on the roof of a set of gorgeous old stone houses all built into the same building with little walkways and gardens separating the individual houses. A tire store stood opposite me and beyond that and a couple more houses lay a vast expanse of wooden area, thick with trees and natural wonder. _Maybe I could get Pitch to find me a place here..._

The night sky was totally cloudless- unusual for Wales, though I didn't know that, and the moon shone its creamy light on the tops of cars moving gently along the roads while old couples stepped gingerly across the street, breathing in the night air. I did the same. It smelt like the rich green earth back home, after a night's rain, mixed with the acrid scent of car exhaust but even that wasn't enough to spoil my mood. OK, so maybe I hadn't found Big Ben, but I think this was just as good.

As I gazed wondrously off into the distance, a small pinprick of light caught my eye. I frowned, shaking myself out of my daze. "What is that?" I wondered aloud. Something was gently flickering amongst the trees in the distance and I thought I could see thin trails of smoke wafting up from the canopy.

"Shit, that's a fire!" I scrambled to my feet and took off in the direction of the smoke, hoping against hope that it wasn't a housefire!

_Not much that I can do about it anyway if it is. If I tried to help any people I'll just phase right through them!_

"Don't think about that now!" I ordered myself, the wind rippling against my face. I was a few hundred yards away from the smoke. It was a forest fire, but I couldn't see any flames! Nothing but whispy tendrils curling up from underneath the leaves.

I ducked beneath the canopy, scanning the ground beneath for the source of the fire. Spiderwebs, leaves and branches covered in moss that looked like they'd been there since before the dawn of time surrounded me, bringing back the old claustrophobia that seemed to follow me wherever I went, lurking in the back of my head. _Damn branches are too thick for me to see up here, not with the smoke and thenight being dark as it is anyway._

I dropped lower, swinging from the branches like a monkey. My cape got caught a few times and I had to stop to wrench it free, swearing as I did so, before finally landing on the wet welsh soil below. Moss tickled my bare toes, causing me to giggle slightly as I made my way through the slightly less dense underbrush. At least I could make out the trees as I went along, feeling my way in the dark like a blind woman and cursing each time I tripped over a root or stone.

Welsh ground was rocky and hard to navigate, even in a forest. Sudden dips and turns that caused me to lose my footing happened all too frequently for my liking and I wondered more than once as I made my way towards the light, should I just fly back up and find it that way?

But I didn't. For one, the smoke was practically non-existent down here and for another I was almost able to make out the bright flames dancing around the foots of trees, casting shadows of crawling fingers and eerie shapes and causing a rich crackling sound to echo through the still night air that unnerved me quite a bit, but I refused to leave it alone. Maybe there was something I could do to put out the fire, regardless of whatever had caused it.

I got closer and closer, paying no mind to the scrapes and cuts running along my bare arms and feet. The crackling sound was getting louder and louder. Almost like...

_Laughter. _

"Damn!" I swore. There was a clearing just beyond me and in that clearing stood three brightly blazing humanoid figures. I had to squint to make them out clearly. They were each cloaked in a different color of blinding fire aura. One glowed white-hot, another a faint blue tinged with orange and yellow, and the third a gently smoldering gingery color, like embers in a grate. They were standing in a semi-circle, facing my direction, looking down on a small figure huddled in a ball at their feet.

One, the blue one, knelt down to touch the figure who I thought was green, but it might've been the light cast by the different fires.

I ducked back behind the tree, afraid they would see me. _Those have gotta be the pyrean fire spirits Pitch told me about! But what are they doing? _

It was obvious really, and it hit me as soon as I heard the scream. A woman's were torturing her, burning her.

"Good one Siva," cackled one of them.

"Yeah!" Chimed in the second. "I think I'm starting to smell burned wood!"

Burned wood? _A dryad! Those bastards are burning a dryad alive! _Rage started bubbling in my system, along with exasperation. Couldn't I have one single bloody day without getting into some such shit or another?! _Pitch is right, I am a damn magnet for trouble!_

_Hey, it's not your fault they're doing this! You can walk away, you don't owe them anything! Remember what Pitch said, they could turn a Changeling like you to cinders in a second!_

"But he also taught me how to beat them," I replied, screwing up my courage. Their laughter carried all the way from the grove into my ears, as well as the screams from the poor, defenseless dryad. She was begging, pleading with them to let her go.

"_I- I gael plant!_" The dryad whimpered, her voice husky from crying. My heart nearly broke. "_Os gwelwch yn dda, trugarha! Mae fy mhlant angen i mi!"_

The fire spirits laughed cruelly and one of them must've burned her again because I heard another scream of pain. "Sorry luv, I don't speak welsh." He sneered.

_She's pleading for her life, for her children's lives. She's telling them that they need her and not to kill her. _I don't know how I knew it, as I don't speak welsh either, but somehow that fact made its way into my mind and, before I knew what I was doing I stepped out from behind the tree and shouted, "HEY!"

The fire spirits looked up. They were all male. The white one who had burned the dryad straightened up, sneering. "And just where did you come from?" He asked in what I guessed was a british accent, though I wasn't thinking too hard on it.

His face- all their faces, really, were haloed in light and flames, licking up the sides of their faces like facial hair and curling off the tops of their heads. Slits of coal-black made for eyes and noses and mouthes. Only their porportions were human; arms, legs and head. The rest was garbed in human clothes and surrounded by a pulsating glow.

I took a step forward, my fists balled. "Pick on someone your own size," I snarled. "That dryad has a _family!_ How _dare_ you torture her for your sadistic game!"

The white spirit glanced at his lackeys and I guessed he was the leader. "Oh, you hear that boys? Looks like this little chit is trying to tell us how to have fun." The others laughed and I felt my anger rising.

"Get out now," I warned them. "I'm not going to tell you again. Because you don't want to be around when I get angry, mark my words!"

Again, they laughed mockingly. "Ooho, we've got a little spitfire here!" Joked the leader, stepping around the dryad and drawing closer to me. He kicked her in the back of the head as he passed, causing me to growl like a feral wolf.

_Ooooh, he's _so_ going to get it! _I thought as he swaggared forward, stopping just a few feet away from me. Still close enough for me to feel the heat his body was emmitting. I stayed where I was, watching him closely.

"Tell me spitfire," he said. It was hard, given his lack of facial features, to see just what look he was giving me but I could tell from his voice that it was very condescending. "Just what makes you think you can take on all of us?"

I looked from him to the others. "I only count three of you." I replied smoothly, employing Pitch's favorite tactic of a calm pretense. "Three against one, good odds. Not for you, of course. You might back out now, or else you don't be able to back out at all."

I don't know why I was still giving this monster a chance to run. Probably my damn humanity kicking in again. I really would have to fix that if I got out of this. Of course, all that good will instantly went out the window when he started laughing at me.

"Do you hear that?" He asked his pack. "That sounds like a bloody threat!

The others hooted back at him and I gritted my teeth.

"Tell you what, spitfire." The leader said, waving a hand at the dryad. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that. And because I like you, I'll give you this one chance to beat it. Before you end up just like her."

I glanced down at the dryad who had lifted her head, staring at me with bright green eyes. Her hair and clothes had almost been completely burned off. "_Rhedeg, plentyn_." She croaked, breaking off in the middle of her words to cough. "_Rhedeg ac arbed eich hun._"

I shook my head. _No, I'm not leaving you to these monsters. _

"Listen to her chit," the white one urged, that smug sneer still rippling through his features. "Get outta here before my good will runs out."

But I couldn't. Seeing her lying there in the ground, helpless while these three bullies burned and tortured her enraged me to a degree I hadn't thought possible before but I sure knew I could reach now. I raised my fists, unsure of how this was going to go down but I knew I couldn't just let them keep hurting her.

The white one sighed, almost sounding regretful but I knew better. "Fine, have it your way then. Get her boys!"

A whoosh of thermal heat swept over me as the pyreans charged but I was quicker by far. I vaulted over their heads in a smoth arch, landing on my hands which then popped me back upright onto my feet like springs. The dryad was right there and I dove to grab her, feeling the tention rippling through my arms and legs. This was what Pitch had trained me for. To move fast and not get caught.

But the pyrean was too fast and I danced away on the tips of my toes. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, making me brash. "Come on," I taunted them. "Afraid to fight a girl?"

The other two, who had detangled themselves and were now glaring murderously at me, looked to their boss before racing towards me. One let out a long tongue of blue flames, just like Pitch's whips. I dodged one flick, trying to reach the dryad but the white pyrean was too close. _I've gotta change tactics._

The glade was big, but not that big. Certainly not big enough to lead them away without burning down the entire forest. I didn't think pyreans could fly, so that gave me the advantage. I kept them at a distence, slowly making my way back towards the poor dryad. "Come at me you walking matches!" I called, waving as I neared the white pyrean. Maybe if I could make them slam into each other...

"What are you waiting for?!" The white pyrean screamed. "Get her!"

They obeyed, speeding towards me like twin whirlwinds of flames. This time I moved down, not up in the direction of the dryad. The two pyreans knocked into their boss and the flames melded for a split second. Just long enough for me to reach the dryad. I grabbed onto her hand, trying to haul her up but she was too heavy.

The crackle of flames mixed with the furious screams of the pyrean, creating an unearthly chorus in the grove around me.

"It's OK," I told the dryad, placing her arm around my shoulders. "I've got you. You're safe now."

"Oh no you don't!" The white pyrean who had somehow detangled his body from the massive bonfire of flames roared, swinging his fists. I threw myself to the side, shielding the dryad from the flaming blow which caught me right on the exposed shoulder. I screamed and rolled away, clutching my arm as spasms of agony shocked my system.

The dryad cried out and I heard something snap. "Shut up!" The pyrean roared, stomping over to me. I felt myself being yanked up by the shirt and the flames licked my cheek, causing bubbles and blisters to form and then pop. The pain was unimaginable! "I warned you," he hissed, holding his hand right against my cheek. Strangely, the pain was starting to ebb. Numbess spread over that side of my face, like someone had just administered anesthesia. "I warned you not to mess with us!"

"_Peidiwch â brifo hi! Os gwelwch yn dda, gadael ei fod!"_ The dryad pleaded and recieved another sharp kick in the ribs.

"Siva, please shut her up!"

"Will do Karja." Replied Siva.

The leader, Karja, turned his attention back to me. The black slits in his face were huge and his fire was burning twice as brightly as before, almost blinding me. "I warned you," he repeated. "And now you'll have to pay the price." He pulled his hand away from my face and punched me, hard in the nose. Blood streamed down my face, making my already blurred vision crimson.

_This is it,_ I thought._ I'm going to die, surrounded by fire, away from home and the people I love, turned to ashen by some bully pyrean. _

The flamed were coming closer, so bright that I could see my reflection in them. My eyes were wide and terrified, but my face was strangely expressionless. I looked into the flames of his hand and saw a different shade of flames, a dark purple fire that was nearly black reflected back at me. Almost as if...

As if _I am_ the fire.

I glanced down at my hands and they were on fire, but they burned a rich violet, like molten sky on a moonless night at the core and tapered out into paler shades of violet and indigo.

"Any last words?" Karja asked.

I smiled grinned, feeling the white-hot fire trickling through my being. "Yeah. Burn baby burn."

And then I socked him, right in the jaw.

Karja staggered back, a hand raised to his face. "You-"

But his next words were lost as I slammed into him, wrestling-style, knocking him to the ground. He still had some fight left in him though and when I tried to pin him be rolled over and got me in an arm-lock. His fire was pulsating rapidly and I guessed that was like a heartbeat for him.

"What are you?!" He demanded, roaring into my face.

I brought up my knee and gutted him squarely, forcing him off of me. "I'm a Changeling," I spat, wiping my now flaming face free of blood. "And I'm bloody pissed off!"

Karja was still on his feet, for some incredible reason. His goons were gone and it was just me and him and the dryad, lying immobile on the ground. We circled each other, like a pair of cougars in a cage, his fire pulsing like a heart about to give while my newly-found purple fire glowed brightly, casting the entire grove in dark shadow.

Neither of us spoke for what felt like ages before Karja broke the silence. "You know," he said thoughtfully. "You're a lot tougher than I gave you credit for, spitfire."

"My name is _Meggie!_" I snarled, flexing my arms. This fire guise was starting to be uncomfortable. And I think it was eating away at my clothes.

"Meggie, then." He retorted. "You're something else, Meggie."

"So I've been told. Are you going to attack me or what?"

"I've never heard of a Changeling spirit before," He continued, dropping low into a crouched stance like a cat, ready to spring. "But I think I should have the honor of killing it!" He threw himself at me and we grappled on the ground, rolling this way and that. His fire couldn't hurt me anymore, so he settled for kicking and striking me in all my vulnerable places.

With each blow I felt my strength waning just a bit and I knew I wasn't going to last much longer but somehow I pinned him again and raised a fist right above his head. "Give up!"

Karja spat sparks in my face. "You're pathetic!" He said, fruitlessly trying to push me off of him. "You're just a pathetic little brat and you're going to die! _Errgh! Agh!_ You'll die and I'll be here, laughing!"

It was like someone had flipped an off-switch in my brain. In the midst of all the chaos and the flames, everything- the noise, the pain in my own body, his movement beneath me it all went away. All I could see was his smug face staring up at me. And behind it another face, in a different, orange flame. An old man's face, bald and sneering. The ghost of a ghost.

Then I blinked and it was gone. Reflex took hold and I punched him, and again and again, using the power surged through me from the change that I had been too in pain to feel before. I wanted to hurt this guy, as much as he hurt the dryad. Nothing else mattered. _Hurt, hurt, hurt._

"YOU!" I screamed, curling my other hand into a fist and striking him all over. The glade was on fire around me but I didn't care. Hurt, hurt, hurt. "WILL! NEVER! HURT! THIS! WOMAN! AGAIN!"

I received silence in response and he didn't move. He might've been dead. I don't know. Can fire spirits be beaten to death?

_I'll have to ask Pitch when I get back home, _I thought numbly, getting off of him. My legs were shaky and I felt the fire starting to drain, along with the rest of my energy. This wasn't really a shape-change I had attempted before, so I didn't know how much it would hurt. I was too numb to care anyway. All the places his fire had touched my skin were mottled with burns and yet, there was no pain.

The dryad... I needed to get to the dryad...

Somehow I managed to lumber over to her. The violet flames had long-since vanished, along with my adrenaline. It was all I could do to keep from falling but, somehow I made it across the grove. I dropped to my knees in front of her, afraid to ask the question burning- pardon the pun, on my lips. "Are you OK?"

She, at least, seemed to be alive. Her fern-green eyes flickered open and I saw a spark of life in them yet, but she couldn't speak. She tried, though. A mournful croak.

"Don't worry," I told her, using the last of my energy to drape what was left of my cloak over her body to shield her from the flames, although we both knew it was a useless gesture and we would both burn anyway. "I'm here. I'll keep you safe."

And as I passed out into oblivion, I hoped that she, at least, would be OK. My burning body might shield her from the worst of it. A selfless act for a selfish brat.

XXXXXXXXXXX

An angel was flying over Bryncethin.

But don't let her catch you calling her that. She _hates_ being referred to as an angel and would likely shoot anyone who referred to her as such. She didn't even have the look of an angel, as she readily told anyone who dared to contest her on the subject, though as you can imagine few did.

Of course the wings were a dead giveaway that might incline you to disagree. They were magnificent wings, indeed. Spanning almost six feet on either side and jet-black, these wings were strong enough to carry her on winds and sturdy enough to carry her on the strongest journeys across the world and back.

But look past the raven-wings. At her face, always a cool mix of sarcasm and snappy dark humor, all hidden behind a pair of pale cheeks and luminous brown eyes and framed by a mess of curly brown hair that she was forced to keep tied back with the strongest of hair-ties and just might be hiding a halo, but she wouldn't be the first to admit it. Look at her clothes: a mix of cotton and leather, all black of course. Like her soul, as she would often joke but don't you believe a word of it.

It was her clothes, and not her wings, which really defined her. Form-fitting leather cargo pants that were tucked into black steel-toed boots and held all sorts of amazing little surprises in the numerous pockets lining the sides. Her shoes were spiked at the heels, of course. Everything about her was a weapon. Her jacket, which ended just above her hips and had two hand-hemmed slits in the back for her wings, held dozens of secret blade sheaths.

Holsters like a mid-western gunslinger strapped to her thighs held twin sawed-off shotguns made in the early 1600's. She was very proud of those particular weapons. They'd been custom-made by a gunsmith with silver fittings, a black barrel and ivory pins. Cartridge straps criss-crossed her hips and, if you didn't know better, you might think she'd been born in the wild west.

But no, she only liked the guns.

This particular night, the angel was flying over Bryncethin simply because she was bored and needed to get out of her place for a while. Her brother wasn't being any fun. He had left his place hours ago to go meet with some big-shot spirit on the moon. Not that she cared. All it meant to her was that he wouldn't be around to pester.

Lilly- that was the angel's name. Liliana. Didn't need a last name, didn't care for one. Lilly touched the small box on a golden chain around her neck, searching for any significant sources of pain in the immediate area. That was really what had gotten her off her lazy bum and out into the night. Pain. Her element- much as she hated to admit it. She'd felt a few significant twinges earlier in the afternoon and that had peaked her curiosity, but now that she was actually out and about the pain she was searching for had been masked by the aura of pain that usually hung about the world.

Lilly had managed to track it down to the western-most corner of the island, near wales but lost it right around Cardiff. Currently, she was circling like a giant vulture over an A&amp;C shop, trying to pinpoint the direction of the pain's source. It was proving difficult, especially since her damn hair kept coming out of the ponytail she'd tried putting it in!

Her hair only reached just a bit past her shoulders but it was curlier than pigs' tails! Totally Shirley Temple-style corkscrew curls, which was another thing she would shoot you over: if you compared her to Shirley Temple. She wouldn't shoot to kill though. You'd probably just lose a chunk off your ear or something.

"I wish I could shoot something right now," she grumbled from her position high in the sky, staring down on the quiet little town below her. And goodness how she wanted to! Frustration always made her want to shoot things. And, after flying around aimlessly for three solid hours, frustrated was the _least_ emotion that could be ascribed to her.

Annoyance was a bit higher on the list than frustration. She was annoyed that her time was being wasted chasing after nothing. She was annoyed that she was out in the cold and damp- because, lets face it, Wales is a wet place -and she was annoyed that she'd been running around so much lately. She needed her sleep dammit, and while she liked night more than day, it was the principle of the thing!

Lilly was literally a few seconds away from turning her back and heading home, but figured it wouldn't hurt to do one last sweep. There was a light in the distance and each time she turned that way she felt a slight tugging on the necklace. Nothing significant, but Lilly figured she would check it out regardless.

It didn't take her long to see the smoke and smell the acrid stench of burning greenwood. She swore, rather richly too and angled her wings flat against her back, sinking into a nosedive from her considerable height, heading for the plume of smoke curling above the canopy.

Below, a small ring had been burned out by the flames and she could make out a faint voice crying out for help. "Great." She groaned, extending her obsidian wings to their full length and swooping low. "What kind of hollow-headed lighter-muncher gets caught in a fire like this?!"

Muscling down her inhibitions, Lilly flew right over the flame and hovered just above the flames, scanning the ground for people. She couldn't spot any right off the bat, but as she drew in a little closer she could just make out the silhouette of a figure on the ground.

_Alright, that tears it. _The angel who was certainly not an angel began to flap her wings. Slow, heavy strokes that kept her stationary but sent massively powerful gusts of wind barreling right into the heart of the fire. _I just hope I'm not too late. _Another gust of wind smothered the flames down and then another put them almost completely out. _Once more good gust should do it! _The smoke was already clearing from the grove, revealing the devastation. People would soon be swarming this place and she needed to get down there to make sure there weren't any dead or dying spirits down there.

After sending one more colossal gust of wind down to put out the last of the flames and fan the majority of the smoke away, Lilly tucked her wings into her back and landed smoothly with practiced ease on the charred ground, scanning the surrounding area. Her finely-tuned ears picked up the light sound of hacking coughs each time she turned east.

It didn't take long to find the source; a small female green dryad who was desperately trying to pick up another limp-looking body that, upon closer inspection, Lilly found to be a white wolf with purple markings around its neck.

"Hey, are you...OK?" She asked, slowly approaching the dryad. She was clearly injured and looked like she'd been there for some time.

The dryad looked up upon hearing her voice and let out a cry of relief. "Ah! _Mae rhywun wedi dod i helpu! Os gwelwch yn dda, y ferch yn nad yw'n ferch, sydd yn awr yn flaidd ni fydd yn deffro! Cynilodd fi rhag y cythreuliaid tân!"_

Lilly looked at her cubiously. "What the hell are you saying? No, you know what, scratch that. I don't want to know. Is this your wolf?" She pointed to the wolf whom the dryad was trying to lift.

The dryad shook her head. "_Nid yw hyn blaidd yn flaidd.__"_

"Bled? It's bleeding? Can you help it?"

The dryad shrugged helplessly, pushing the wolf towards Lilly. "_Rydych yn. Byddwch yn cymryd hi. Nid wyf yn gallu._"

"Me?! I can't take a wolf! Can't you take it?" She asked, eyeing the wolf anxiously. Sure, she knew how to set a broken arm or bandage a gash, but fixing up a wild animal?

The dryad shook her head again and lifted up a layer of fur that revealed gashes and burns. Clearly the creature had been protecting the dryad. Her meaning was clear.

Lilly sighed. "You're just lucky I like wolves," she grumbled, sliding her arms underneath the unconscious animal's body and hefting her up over her shoulder. "Do you have someone looking for you? Family?"

The dryad seemed to understand and put a hand on the uncharred trunk of a tree, closing her eyes. After a second she opened them again and nodded.

"Good. I don't need another damn patient to take care of." She grumbled, rising. _Hades' marrow _this beast was heavy! "You sure you'll be alright?"

The dryad glanced around at the destruction around them, then nodded decisively. There was a lot of work to be done here, removing the pain and suffering. Lilly could feel it, even if it was from trees. But the dryad and her family should have it under control.

"Good luck." She said, giving a small salute to the brave dryad before lifting her wings up and, with a single flap she shot up into the sky, carrying her new passenger over her shoulder. The dryad watched her go, feeling the energy of the earth beneath her as her family woke up from their slumber and started coming to her aid.

She said a prayer to mother earth for that strange girl who was not a girl, hoping that the wolf who was not a wolf was in good hands. That was the least she could hope for, after all the child had done for her.

Lilly, on the other hand, wasn't in the mood for praying. She had learned long ago that self-reliance was the only reliance and that, if she wanted to keep this wolf alive, she needed to get bandages and supplies to do so. Of course she didn't have stuff like that at home. Any injuries she got, she went to her brother for fixing.

"But Micha's _not here_, so I'm gonna have to do this myself! Ugh I hate being so nice all the time!"

It was a good thing she couldn't be heard by normal people because the amount of swearing coming from her would have made a sailor blush. Her wings made what would've been a several hour-long flight from Wales to London a rather quick and simple journey. She landed on the backside of the massive clock tower known as Big Ben, in the middle of westminster. Through the secret door only she, her brother and a few spare spirits knew about, up the stairs and into the body of the clock itself where he made his home.

She half expected him to be back by now but there was no sound of life amidst the clamor of ticking clocks and the soothing swish of flowing sand.

"Figures," she griped, slinging the wolf none-too-gently onto one of the threadbare couches and stomping across the wooden floor, paying no heed to the intricately-woven tapestry of shimmering threads beneath her feet, or that they were moving. She'd seen it all before.

The medicine cabinet was just down the hall and she stuffed the closest bag-looking container full to the brim with alcohol, gauze, bandages, band aids of all shapes and sizes, and cotton packing. Lilly knew she could find needles and thread readily at her place but figured she might as well take some anyway.

And, once that sack was tied tightly around her belt-loop, she hefted the wolf back over her shoulder and headed out again in the direction of her home, Buckingham Palace.

Well, technically it was the _attic_ of Buckingham Palace. Lilly was, by no means, royalty. And didn't want to be treated a such. Nor was she actually from Britain. She was an American by birth, but country-less by choice. And it had been such a long, long time ago that she really didn't care where she was from. Only where she was going.

There was a small window-ledge near the white drawing room which Lilly used for her normal entrance into the palace, but it would be too small with her burden. So she used the front door and worked her way up the grand staircase, making for the blue drawing room which had a hatch leading up into the attic hidden behind a statue. The rungs were tricky to navigate, but somehow she managed and got the somehow still unconscious wolf up into her little nook.

The Royal Estate was full to bursting with unused rooms and she could have just as easily taken one of the other rooms, but the attic was more comfortable. Nobody besides the queen ever came up here anyway, and she was a wonderful lady that Lilly didn't mind pretending to talk to.

She put the wolf in a small nest of blankets near the foot of her bed, set the supplies down beside the wolf and took off her jacket to make the work easier. She'd checked the heartbeat of the creature several times over the course of her journey from Wales to London and while it had been weak, it was still there nevertheless.

"Good, that's good." She muttered, pushing back the wolf's fur to see the burns. She could still pick out the scent of burning flesh and fur among the dust and blood. "Lets hope you've got some fight left pup."


	23. Angel With a Sawed-off Shotgun

**Hey ladies and germs, sorry doesn't even begin to cover it I am lazy and worthless and I love you all! This week has just been a blast and a half for me, from potentially getting a job to FINALLY finishing Somebody that we used to know- my other fanfic baby, to getting a short story accepted by a contest which I have a real chance of winning and kicking ass at school. All in all, I thought I'd start this next week with something great and hope the pattern maintains. **

**I love all my friends and if they have a chance to read this I would be so happy! Especially Xion5 because...well...Lilly kinda is her. I hope I did the real lady justice because she's beautiful and I love her so much and miss her OMG I'm gonna cry! **

***Sigh* get it together Mystic. **

**Sorry, I really loved writing this chapter and I can't wait for you lot to see it!**

**So, here it is. Lilly and a *mysterious* wolf whom she has taken in. Enjoy, oh and check out my fanfic somebodyt hat we used to know it's worth it I swear! Alright, that's all from me, enjoy! All hail the Mighty Glow Cloud!**

* * *

As it turned out, the wolf did seem to have a little strength left. At least enough to last through the hours it took Lilly to clean and bandage the wounds.

Before she started the healing process, Lilly did a once-over to assess the worst of the damage. Most of the damage took the form of burns and gashes. There were loads of cuts along its paws and legs, like it had been running through brambles and the burns on its back and shoulders didn't seem to be that bad. First degree at worst. Then she rolled the beast over to check the other side and was horrified to see a mass of bubbled flesh and matted fur on the shoulder, a long slit running along the outside of the leg and a hand print-like burn covering the entire left side of the face.

_Ohh, you poor beastie,_ she thought, trying to lift a clump of fur but it was firmly stuck to the burned area. It whined a little, but didn't wake up. _Don't worry, I'll take care of you. Just sleep. _She stroked its muzzle gently, on the non-burned area and the wolf tilted its head slightly, as if leaning into her touch and in that moment, Lilly knew she was meant to take care of this wolf. Spirit or not.

She used a washcloth dipped in fresh, cold rainwater that she had collected in a barrel on the balcony outside to clean the wounds first, gently dabbing at the fur and burns. Clumps of charred fur came away by the truckload, stuck to the washcloth until it formed a little pile beside the nest where the wolf was still sleeping away.

Breathing remained strong throughout the entire cleaning process and Lilly marveled at the fact that it barely gave off enough pain to register on her internal meter. By all rights, the thing should be writhing in agony, whimpering and whining but it continued remaining silent as the grave. It was so silent that Lilly had to check a few times to make sure it was still breathing as she applied antibiotic gook and wrapped the wounds, taking extra care around the beast's maw.

_This is one tough mother, _she thought, smirking in spite of herself as quick, practiced hands wove gauze over the extensive wounds. _I really hope it makes it._

She decided to wait a while before bandaging the minor wounds. It was true, they could get infected just as easily as the major ones, but her empathy for the poor creature and the fact that it was taking it like a champ couldn't be ignored. To make up for the time, Lilly busied herself with other productive tasks. Namely, cleaning.

"Cleaning," she muttered into the dust, stooping to pick up discarded rubbish from many exhausted nights of not caring that she slept in a trash-bin. "I would rather swim naked through a lake of lava. With sharks. And eels. And bears." Wait, no, none of those things could live in lava. She chuckled darkly. "That would be cool…"

Lilly loathed the task more than anything in the whole entire universe, which was how she had gotten into her current predicament. The attic of Buckingham palace had somehow, over decades of poor maintenance and a general attitude of '_I don't give a flying-_' turned into her own personal dumping ground.

Pizza boxes and Chinese take-out cartons from downtown Chicago littered the floor like destroyed enemy tanks; half-drunk bottles of vodka and Mountain Dew, their contents dripping steadily into pools of fluorescent green on the priceless carpet; candy wrappers that had migrated here, looking for a better life, only to meet their doom in the face of Lilly's sweet tooth made a miniature library for ants on the ground and in the midst of it all hung the sweet, slightly pungent odor of Japanese essential oils and vomit.

She considered herself lucky the royal guard or someone hadn't come up here already and found her little rathole. While humans couldn't usually see her unless they were hurting really badly- or they were just part of the weird sub-culture that had been cropping up all across the globe dedicated to spirits, and even then it was a rare commodity –but if they came in and installed cameras to catch the squatters she would most certainly be screwed.

So, with a lot of swearing and the aid of a liter of MD and a vodka chaser, the angel of mercy and bad swearing plugged in her stolen industrial-strength headphones and set the music to Japanese Death-Metal. With a little bit of Vocaloid thrown in.

"Praise be to the music gods," she muttered as rapid-fire screamo blared through the tiny speakers and set to work. "At least I've got something to listen to and won't wake up the mutt."

Almost instantly, she was reminded why she hated cleaning. The trips alone, back and forth from her rooms to the waste treatment plant down the road, to deal with the mountains of trash almost made her quit after the third one. It was exhausting, having to drag along thirty-pound bags of junk on wings that had already traipsed across the country twice tonight. But each time she contemplated leaving it for another night her brother would come to her, speaking words of wisdom.

"_You live in a cesspit and I will never visit you with food again if you don't clean it up._"

She had been horrified. "_No beef jerky?!_"

He shook his head. She told him she didn't believe him- because that was just the kind of obstinate twit she was, and he'd upped the gambit to prove he wasn't bluffing. "_No more Chocolate death cake_." He'd promised. "_I will literally go back in time and erase its' invention, until you clean your room._"

Horror didn't even begin to cover it. Needless to say, she nodded mutely and hadn't let it get that bad since. Until now, anyway.

"I'm surprised the big buzz-kill isn't here right now, lecturing me." She muttered, dropping another bag to trash off and heading for home. This was actually a pretty risky move, leaving the wolf's side for any extended period of time. It could wake up and go batshit crazy, tearing her whole place apart but Lilly didn't really think it would come to that. And anyway, she had other places. That little pagoda in Tokyo, for instance which she'd been meaning to visit for about three years.

"Riiiight, I remember that place. Why did I never go back there? Was it a Yōkai? Probably. Little bastards, driving me out of my own house." She swerved to avoid a cloud, not in the mood to get wet. "Next time I go there I'll remember to burn some incense for that one chick that gets rid of them."

In any case, she doubted the wolf was going to wake up. Last she'd checked it was still out-cold and still exhibiting less pain than a sprained ankle, which was really weird. Either it didn't feel pain or its' mind was too deep in hibernation to let its' body be effected by the pain. Pain was really a ghost of the mind, and if the mind didn't know it was supposed to be in pain then she couldn't feel it. The wolf could be dying inside and she would never know.

Which would suck. A lot.

With her mind on this train of thought, when she got back to the palace Lilly chose to take a break from flying and focus on just bagging the trash up and leaving it by the hatch. And there was still a lot of it to go.

Alighting on the balcony, Lilly's wings gently retracting through the holes in her shirt and jacket, fading back into the obsidian tattoos that covered the entire length from the shoulder blades to the base of her spine. She shivered with pleasure, savoring the tingly feeling for a moment before setting herself to the task of ridding the room of dust.

Even in the dim light of lamps and candles, the minute particles could still be seen floating in mid-air. It disgusted her but, what else could you do? Aside from sweep the majority of it up and trying to keep it all clean. Which she tried to do in any case, but it was a very futile gesture, as she soon discovered.

So she set her mind to something more realistic. Searching for spiders. Lilly killed the spiders she found. They did not want to be her friends, they wanted to assassinate her on her sleep. Or so she believed.

"Definitely not making Arachne happy," she mused, kicking a spider corpse under her bed where it would slowly be consumed by other spiders. "Haha, eat you little hairy demons, eat!" She cackled, watching the spider twitch. Then she blinked. "I'm…severely messed up. I need sleep."

"Truer words never spoken," replied a voice behind her.

Lilly leaped into action, drawing as many weapons as her hands could hold and a few that were just lying around the room. Battle-axes, muskets and a sniper rifle came to life as feathery dark tendrils leaked from the tips of her suddenly unfurled wings wrapped around them, assembling two on one side of her hips and one on the other, ready and loaded for use. Her hair crackled with electricity like a spooked cat.

Then she saw who it was and flung a battle-axe at his head. The other weapons dropped. Her wings melded into her back and she stomped her foot like a spoiled toddler. "MICHA!" She hissed, remembering at the last minute to use, as her brother said, her inside voice to avoid waking the wolfie.

Her visitor, who had easily ducked the axe that had lodged itself in the wall behind him, straightened up and undid the clasp on his blue cloak. "Well that's a nice welcome," the Time-master drawled, hanging his traveling cloak on a peg. "You haven't thrown a battle-axe at me since New Zealand."

Lilly stomped over to him and socked him squarely in the shoulder, driving him back a few feet. "Buttface," she snapped. "You know I startle easily!"

Micha cackled- a habit he had learned from his adoptive sister strangely enough. "Maybe if you read those self-maintenance books like I've suggested you'll find you don't scare so easily anymore." He told her pointedly. Though he knew she wouldn't listen.

"Startle," she corrected, throwing a look the wolf's way. Still asleep. Good. "I don't get scared by anything."

"Except pink."

"Pink is an evil color developed by the clothing industry to hypnotize humans into worshiping all that is good and fluffy," Lilly answered without blinking. "It's an abomination and I will see all pink destroyed."

Micha tilted his head to the side, frowning. "I thought you liked fluffy?" Her response was throwing another axe at him which he side-stepped. "Fair enough. So, where's the dog?"

"It's a wolf," Lilly told him pointedly. "Not a dog. And a really weird one at that." She didn't even bother asking how he knew. She'd been through this loop before and talking about time-strands only gave her a headache.

"Lets see."

Lilly sighed, wondering if her brother would ever stop sticking his nose in her business. Probably not, she thought as she led him over to the sleeping wolf. Micha knelt, admiring the bandage-work. His hand hovered over the beast's forehead, tracing its markings in the air.

"Beautiful," he whispered. "How long have you had her?"

Lilly took off her boots and sat crisscross, gazing at it. "Only a few hours." She answered. "I found it in a fire along with some bark-head that couldn't speak anything but the local lingo. I asked her if she had someone to take care of her and she told me she did, so I just took it."

"She." The angel gave him a weird look and Micha directed her gaze to several peach-colored spots on the under-side of the wolf's belly. "It's a girl."

"She," Lilly amended, wondering why she hadn't thought to look there. "I took her and borrowed some med stuff, figuring I could stitch her up but she hasn't made a noise in all the time I've had her here. I think she's gonna die Micha,"

"She won't." He assured her, sliding his hand over from the wolf's abdomen and into Lilly's hand for comfort. "Not with you here to take care of her. You…know this isn't a normal creature, right?"

Lilly nodded and her dark eyes were drawn, once again, to the violet markings spanning along the length of her back and tail like flames. Of course they weren't that of a normal beast. That would be obvious even to the dumbest lug. But, if she wasn't a normal creature, what was she? Being a spirit, and an old one at that, she knew how to recognize a magical being when she saw one. What with the purple markings, which didn't look normal by any standards, and her unnaturally strong will to live, there was no doubt in her mind that she was dealing with an Okami or some other sort of wolf spirit. But she couldn't fathom what kind.

"She's not an Okami," Lilly said slowly.

"No, not an Okami. Something else." Again Lilly turned to look at him, frowning. He held her gaze steadily.

"You know." It was a statement.

"Yes."

"Can you-"

"No. I'm sorry," he added when she pulled her hand away and swore. "It's part of the future that I can't let slip or else I'm going to be in deep trouble!"

Lilly fought the urge to hit him again and it most certainly was a strong one. What a gods-damned useless thing having the power over time was if you couldn't use it to help people. _But he doesn't have the power over time,_ she reminded herself. _That was the old man Ombram or whatever. Micha just watches the strands, stepping in when he can. _Still, it was bloody useless when he couldn't even tell her what she was dealing with.

"I'm sorry," Micha offered again, shimmering golden eyes watching her from under that shaggy black hair like twin spot-lights.

She waved a hand. "It's alright, I know the drill. I really should be used to it by now though...you think I'm a glutton for punishment?" Lilly smiled, unable to really stay mad at her brother.

Micha shrugged. "Among other things," and avoided another punch. "And you should never give up asking, Lilly. Someday I might actually be able to supply the answers without getting screamed at by the spirit of my predecessor."

She snorted. "Yeah, that'll never happen unless you get that old ghoul exorcised. I keep telling you, just boot him straight into the void and let him enjoy retirement there but no, you keep saying he's got more to teach you! He's got you wrapped around his little ghostly finger Micha, and you know it."

"Not completely," Micha argued, turning away from the wolf to face her, eyes glimmering mischievously. "I got him to drop the whole 'kronos' issue didn't I?"

Yet again the angel snorted. "Pfft. Yeah, only because you kept screwing with people and getting them to say your name wrong. You're lucky he didn't go whining to the moon-man." While it wasn't like Manny could do anything to Micha, as he had been at the job for only a thousand years or so, Micha hated red tape and unless he towed the line and listened to the old man about certain things time itself could be unraveled.

Or so Ombran said. She didn't really believe that, just like she didn't believe having chocolate milk could effect the flow of the universe but Micha was dead-set on the matter.

Micha scoffed. "_Oh please_, I'm not afraid of Manny. The least he can do it demote me and put Ombric back in charge, which will do more to piss him off than anything."

And it was true. The privilege of having spirit parents.

"Don't they still think you're title is a plant or something?" She asked, recalling the random information from she didn't even know where.

Micha had to clap his hands over his mouth to keep from hooting out loud and waking up the sleeping wolf before him. Instead, he settled for closing his eyes and trying to contain himself, though it really was bloody hilarious, and made a quiet snicker. "Yeah," he mumbled through his own hand. "Jack Frost for one. Patrick too. Ugh, it's an absolute riot! Gods sometimes I get so bored and I just have to-" he stopped. Lilly was giving him that look again. "What?"

She slowly edged away from him without saying a word. Micha rolled his eyes and shoved her gently.

"Hey, I don't look like that when you're ranting about the stuff you like!" He said defensively. "And you do that a lot by the way. And not once have I ever given you that look or told you to shut up."

"Because you know I'll hang you upside down from your underwear on Big Ben again," Lilly answered deftly, staring deep into his eyes and fulfilling the age-old adage that siblings, though they not necessarily be born of the same parents, can have a bond just as strong as blood.

That was fair enough.

Micha didn't stay for much longer. Despite what she said, her manner conveyed she was still slightly ticked and so he chose to make a swift exit. His parting words were something to the effect of take care of yourself and the dog, to which Lilly politely reminded him that it was a wolf.

"Same difference," he replied, shrugging. "Just, keep an eye on her OK?" His eyes flicked towards the creature and something in his eyes made alarm bells start going off in Lilly's head. Something wasn't exactly wrong it was just...she'd never seen him look at anything like that before. Sad, but hopeful. Normally he just looked apprehensive at best. Maybe he was finally figuring out that that look creeped most people out. "And be careful. She's a lot more than what she seems." He added, looking directly at her now.

Before Lilly could even move an inch to grab him by the shirt to ask him what he was talking about- she had found the only way to get any sort of answers from him was to dangle him off the edge of the roof and even then they were pretty unsatisfactory answers. But hey, you get what you get -Micha had already turned-tail and disappeared down the hatch. The last she saw of him were a few strands of black hair disappearing into the vastness of Buckingham Palace.

"Damn," she muttered, falling back onto the wooded floor with a thunk that caused a small cloud of dust to erupt from the boards. The wolf didn't budge. "Such a beautiful animal..." Her hand strayed out and caressed the wolf's leg lightly and it jerked just a bit. She pulled the hand away and the wolf remained still.

"I've really got to think of a name for her..." Lilly got up and continued on her cleaning brigade, making as little noise as possible while her mind tried to simultaneously work out what her brother might've meant, figure out what a wolf of magical or non-magical origin might eat that she could readily get her hands on, and why her music wasn't playing.

She inspected her stolen mobile and discovered the song had been paused. And her headphones were unplugged. Ah, that would explain it then. She pressed play and a sudden eruption of thrash-metal poured from her tiny speakers into the air which, up until this point, had been dead silent.

Lilly swore and train desperately to push the volume button but it was stuck again. "Son of a- work damn you work!" She tried shoving the plug back in the jack and, _of course,_ the damn receptors didn't click right. She let out a dragon's roar of a growl and anyone watching would've probably not been surprised to see smoke curling from her nostrils as her hair once again started to frizz from irritation.

Because the stars hated her- or at least that's how she saw it, Lilly knew she could never get it to shut up when she wanted it to, so she simply threw it against the wall and reminded herself to pick up a new one the next time she went out.

_For now, let's just see if the beastie is awake._

She'd heard a slight yelp as the phone hit the wall and sure enough, when she turned around the wolf had raised its head, looking around anxiously. Lilly swore again and knelt, not too close. Her green eyes were dilated to the point of almost turning the entire eye black. Green. That was a weird color for a wolf's eyes.

"Heeey there puppy," she said softly, unsure whither to look it in the eyes or not. So she settled for the center of its forehead where that beautiful violet swirled marking rested.

The wolf turned to look at her and her eyes widened, but she didn't move. Even lying on its' side, bandaged and burned, there was still power. She could feel it. But also fear, hidden behind those eyes.

"Don't be afraid, please. I'm not here to hurt you." Lilly held up her hands, flat, palms facing up and fingers tightly rigid like she was about to feed a horse. "I rescued you, remember? From the fire? Well," she amended. "You might not remember. I don't know if you were awake. Or if you can even hear me. But I'm going to keep talking to you as if you can, alright?"

The soothing tone would hopefully relax her and make her less likely to bite or lash out at the very least. And it worked- or it seemed to. The wolf's gaze wavered on her hands for a moment, then it let out a strangled sort of whine and collapsed back onto the little nest she'd made it.

"Oh damn. I hope that didn't do anything!" Lilly rushed across to the wolf and inspected her for more bruises but it appeared she was fine. Just exhausted. It was cool, she had a right to sleep as much as she wanted. "Poor girl," the angel murmured. "She's totally tapped out." Even that little bit of effort had knocked her out again.

Thinking it best to just let her sleep for a few more hours before attempting any more broaches of contact, Lilly cleaned up the last of her mess and settled down in a beanbag chair to watch pirated tv on a small set she'd swiped from downstairs. Nothing good was on, which in itself was good, as Lilly couldn't really focus on the screen anyway and soon found herself falling into the deep realm of dreamlessness.

_Good, _she thought as her eyes slipped closed. Night had long-since fallen and it was closer to daybreak than anything. _Time to take a quick cat-nap and figure out the rest of this insanity tomorrow..._

The cat-nap ended up lasting her a lot longer than she had intended. What with the pain of the dryad and she exertion of flying back and forth all night, Lilly found herself quite exhausted and it was nearly three in the afternoon when she awoke with a start to the sounds of claws scraping across wooded floors and plaintive howls.

"SHIT, she's awake!" The nest was empty but long, deep scour marks led across the floor to the hatch where Lilly found the wolf fruitlessly pawing the hatch and whining. Lilly approached cautiously. She hadn't expected her to be up and about so soon. _Thought I might have a few days to work with her, get her used to me. Guess that's out the effing window._ "Pet, hey, you shouldn't be up and about!"

The wolf lumbered around to face her and she noticed it put barely any weight at all on her back right foot. Her lips pulled back, baring her teeth in a snarl that clearly said _back off_. So Lilly did.

"OK, OK. Easy. Easy girl. I'm stepping away. I'm not trying to hurt you." She took several slow, careful steps back and kept her eyes lowered, away from her eyes.

The wolf growled and snapped anyway, but didn't seem to want to move from her spot near the hatch. All the same, Lilly was afraid. It was hard not to with a gigantic white wolf staring you down, her eyes shining in the dark like searchlights, baring teeth that could rip your throat out and claws that scoured oak floors. But, no matter how scared she was, she didn't let it show.

"I'm not trying to hurt you," she repeated. She said it over and over again, hoping the soothing tone would lessen her aggression and, slowly but surely, it did. Lilly just had to wait her out. Lesson one when approaching scared or aggressive animals: Do NOT attempt to approach them. Let them come to you. Which is exactly what she did.

The wolf wasn't really angry. If she'd been angry, Lilly figured, she would have attacked by now. She was just scared and in pain, which would make any creature aggressive. So the angel waited, looking at the markings on the wolf's body and face; anywhere but her eyes which would undoubtedly provoke her. Her stance slowly shifted and she became less rigid. Then, after what felt like an eternity of holding her breath, the wolf took an unsteady step forward.

"That's it," she crooned. "That's right. Come to me."

The wolf took another step, then another. They were shaky, unsure and bumbling, as if she weren't used to those massive paws that had dug so deep into the floor. _Must be grogginess from sleep,_ she figured.

"Atta girl. That's it..." She held out a hand, hoping against hope that the beast didn't have a change of heart and snap it off. She sniffed it warily, inhaling deep lungfuls of air and breathing hot breath back at her. Then, after another long pause, Lilly felt the cold, wet press of a wolf's nose nuzzling her palm. "There, see? You're a good wolfie after all." Lilly cooed, raising a hand to her head and patting her gently. "Now, what say we just go back over here and lie down again, hm?"

The wolf blinked.

"You look like you're about to fall over." She continued, retaining the calmest tone she could conjure up as she slowly rose to her feet.

Her patient yawned and towards the end Lilly caught the faint hint of a whine.

"I know, it hurts, but come back over here. Come on, this way." She beckoned, patting the nest of blankets while mentally taking inventory of something that might entice the wolf back over to her. All she really had were candy bars and unless the puppy had a sweet tooth...

_Hell it's worth a shot,_ she reasoned and proceeded to pull out a snickers bar from the pocket of her leather jacket.

"I've got a nice sweet treat for you if you just come back over here." She wagged the candy bar and the wolf pricked up its ears, tilting her muzzle up and sniffing lightly. _Well, she's interested at least._

The wolf tried to wag her tail and winced, whimpering like a little child.

_Not that strong then, if her tail's still hurting. _"I've also got meds and stuff to help you with that," Lilly continued, keeping her gaze steady. She was able to look her in the eyes now which was a good sign. "Just come back over here and I promise I'll fix you up. Please?"

The wolf looked at the hatch, then back at her as if deliberating and Lilly held her breath, fervently hoping that she understood what was being said to her and that she wasn't just talking to herself here.

Finally, after a long moment during which her heart beat faster than she was sure it ever beat before, the white and violet wolf took a few unsteady steps towards her, still favoring her back legs and she was almost to Lilly and the bed when her legs gave out and she collapsed on the floor with a grunt. Lilly tried to catch her but she moved too slow and only managed to keep her head from hitting the ground.

Instead of dragging her back to the nest, which would cause her more distress and ultimately more pain, Lilly curled up next to her on the floor and laid its head in her lap with her legs on either side of the body, stroking her gently.

"There there, I've got you. I've got you, it's OK. It's OK." She intoned, though she wasn't sure she believed it and the wolf didn't seem to either. After a few seconds she cracked an eye open and let out a low "_Ooooooo._" sound that had to be the most pitiful thing Lilly had ever heard.

"Does it hurt a lot?" She asked, looking over the wounds. Nothing was bleeding, so it must just be internal ache and stress.

The wolf whined again and this time Lilly could practically hear the voice pleading, _help me. Help me._

The black husk around her heart that only her brother ever managed to penetrate cracked in two. The pain from the beast's wounds had registered almost as soon as she'd opened her eyes but Lilly hadn't felt the full weight of it until just now. Her wings started to tingle and it was all she could do to see straight as the wash of element hit her like a bad smell.

_Oh gods sometimes I __**hate**__ my existence. _She thought, running a hand along the creatures' back tenderly. "I'm so sorry sweety, let me see if I've got something for you. I grabbed some meds from Micha's place, maybe there's something that'll work for you. Just sit tight, OK? I'll be back. I'm right here, don't move."

After carefully lifting her head off her lap and sliding her jacked underneath the wolf's head so that she wasn't just laying on dusty wood, Lilly got up and raced to the pile of crap she'd borrowed from her bother. A small bottle rested on top and, while it had actually been intended for her own use, Lilly couldn't stand seeing anything in that much pain without doing something about it.

She read the label. _Ages three and older, not for women who are pregnant or nursing-_ "Damn! I'm sorry pup," she turned back to the wolf who opened its eyes a crack. She looked utterly beaten. "This stuff's no good for you. It's for people and I don't want to give it to you and run the risk of you getting worse."

The wolf couldn't even open her mouth fully and the resulting whine was so deep in her throat that it sounded more like keening than anything. It was as if she was begging her, _please. Please help me._

Those warm eyes were what did it. They held her no ill will, even as she stood by and did nothing. Lilly took a deep breath, setting down the bottle. "OK, I _do_ have something else for you that's not a pill, but it's gonna hurt. A lot. Better you than me eh?" She cracked a grin and the wolf regarded her with a curious gaze, as if waiting to see what was about to happen.

_It's astounding how much emotion can be conveyed from the eyes alone,_ Lilly thought as she descended beside the animal once more, steeling herself for what she was about to attempt. _Especially when it can't make complex facial expressions. _

"OK," she said again, taking a slow, deep breath. "Here it goes. I don't think this should hurt you at all but if it does, I'm sorry. If you can even understand me, just relax. It'll only take a few seconds." Her hand wavered over the most severe-looking wound on the wolf's haunch and she wondered if this was a good idea. _Maybe I should just stick with the med and hope for the best..._

Then she caught the wolf's eyes again and this time what resonated with her wasn't the curiosity, or the pleading for help. It was the solid and profound expression of totally being _done_, with everything. Done with this, done with Everything. But she didn't look done with life.

_Good. Because you're not going to die, _Lilly thought to herself sternly, gingerly laying a hand on the wound. The wolf shirked a little but she just told her to be calm and everything would be alright. The pain stemmed more from physical injury than mental anguish, which was good. That kind of pain she could deal with. It was the other which presented a challenge.

The angel focused almost all of her strength, pulling at the frail cords which tethered her to this realm through the pain and allowed her to channel that pain from the poor wolf into herself. Her wings began to shudder almost in the same instant as she tapped in to her powers, making it much more difficult to concentrate.

"Come on, come on!"

Her wings were turning molten black, she could feel it. Where once they had been whiter than snow on a moonlit mountainside, the folded wings now throbbed with shadows, darkness and pain, creeping along her back and up into the tattoos, poisoning them like snake venom. The days of innocence were long-behind her. Brightest day, blackest night, all wrapped up into one being.

_And the other spirits were __**surprised**__ when I triggered that tsunami,_ she thought, gritting her teeth against the stress. The box on her neck was burning something fierce. And it was itching. Like a ton of wasps were resting on her neck. _Uuuugh, this sucks! _But it was working. It most definitely was working. The throbbing was getting stronger and when she chanced to look at her hand she could see the slight gray luminescence radiating from beneath her palm.

Within seconds, the flickering light began to crawl up her arm like a living, breathing thing, heading towards her necklace. She didn't stop it and just let it run its course, even as the tiny scour marks started to appear from the tendrils digging into her flesh, extracting the main toll that was supposed to be the only toll but, as she had told Micha on frequent occasions, everything has a price.

She resisted the urge to curse as the living darkness wound its' way around her through and began to pour into the mirrored crystal in the center of her box. The ying and yang that the crystal was covering began to radiate its' own light. The sharp intake of breath in response to the shock of the energy had her wishing someone would just kill her now. Even if she was alone in an isolated attic with a wolf, she still hated herself for being so damn susceptible to the pain itself.

_Whew, OK, breath. Just a few more minutes. _She told herself. _This is for the wolf._

This is for the wolf. The weirdest explanation she'd ever had in her life thus-far.

She wasn't sure of the wolf was still awake or not- she certainly looked it, and her eyes weren't open, but Lilly was certainly heading towards lala land. The worst was over. Now she was on the downside of the process, as the last of the pain seeped through her and into the box.

Her eyes slipped shut and there was the sensation of falling. Just as the last sliver of light was forced out of her eyes Lilly thought she saw a flash of violet and a face smiling at her where the wolf's head had been. If she'd had any energy left at all, she might've done a double-take but as it was, she simply ignored it.

_Nah, _she thought. _Was probably just my imagination._

And then, just like that, she was waking up. It felt like no time had passed, none at all. One second her eyes had slipped shut and she was spiraling off into the darkness, the next she was jolted back into consciousness by something cold and wet nudging her cheek.

"Unnnnngh!" She moaned, unable to even form coherent words so she just settled for groaning and hoped that whoever was bothering her would get the message.

But the cold wet thing just kept nudging her and whining like a baby- yes, that's what it was. A plaintive baby's cry.

She turning her face into the floor to get away from the cold, grumbling, "_Stop_, _go away!_"

But the source of the coldness merely switched to her exposed neck, nudging her incessantly as the whined grew louder, accompanied by a slobbery wet sensation on her exposed hand. Lilly jerked away, recoiling in disgust and curled in on herself protectively.

There is seldom weirder way to wake up than with something mysterious, wet and cold nudging you and trying to lick your face while you lay on the floor, and at first she thought she was in some whacked out dream. Maybe the Sandman was on shrooms again. Then she remembered the pooch she'd rescued and rolled back over, cracking open an eye to find a pair of concerned eyes staring directly into hers.

They held gazes for a moment, dark brown eyes and obviscescent green. Then the wolf whined and licked her hand.

Lilly smiled through slightly sleepy eyes as she got up the effort to speech. "Ugh, hey pup. I guess that was you huh?" She murmured, raising a hand to the wolf's uninjured side and patting it gently. She did this without thinking and was surprised when the wolf didn't shy away or anything. Lilly sat up fully and assessed her patient. "You seem to be doing much better."

It was as if her attitude had done a complete 180 turnaround. The wounds hadn't changed much but she could see the general aura of liveliness that had all but deserted the animal while she'd been being fixed up. Her eyes were bright and alert, her paws were all standing steady on the floor and she was wagging her tail as only a happy wolf can.

The wolf merely shook her shaggy white and violet shoulders, then yawned as if to say, "Not bad. But you've sure seen better days."

"I'll bet." Lilly wasn't sure how far she should try to go in petting the wolf, but since she seemed to be friendly she decided to take that risk and patted her head gently. The wolf appeared to approve and practically knocked her over, trying to rub her head against Lilly's hand, arm and chest. "Oof! Good grief mutt, are you trying to knock me over again?" She scolded, but the wolf was just happy and Lilly didn't take it personally. Just looking into those amazing green eyes was enough to make her melt. "Do you want some belly rubs?"

The wolf's eyes widened and she fell over in an almost dead faint, rolling onto her back despite her injuries to present her fluffy tummy for rubs.

_Saintly sorghum, this thing acts more like a cat than a wolf!_ She thought, laughing at she rubbed the beast's stomach, taking care to avoid the cuts but the wolf really didn't seem to mind. All her pain had been taken, temporarily at least, away. "Yeah? Yeah, you want the belly rubs? _You want the belly rubs?_"

She howled and wiggled her fluffy white behind for sheer joy as Lilly continued to rub her belly, flailing her arms and legs through the air and Lilly had to lean back a few times to avoid being caught by those claws. Damn things were sharp.

"Alright mutt, that's it. Game time's over. I need to stand." She tried pushing the creature whose tongue was lolling out of its mouth and had the most goofy expression on her face off, but the wolf simply rolled back over, stood up and climbed into her lap as if to say, _nope._

"Wolfie!"

Nope.

"Come on hippopotamical landmass I gotta get up and do shit!"

The wolf licked her face. Nope.

_Ugh, why is it always me?! _Lilly growled deep in her throat, trying to figure out some form of threat that would make the apparently intelligent mutt listen to her. Finally she settled on the old standby. It worked with her brother, why shouldn't it work for a wolf? "I have food for you! Food, do you hear me? And I can get it if you _get off!_"

Just like with the mention of the candy bar, her ears perked up and her head swiveled around to face Lilly's own. A long, pink tongue lolled out and a puddle of drool dripped down onto her hand.

"Eww." Lilly wiped her hand on the floor, leaving a light stain. "Ugh, slimy mutt. So it's safe to assume you're hungry then?"

The wolf let out a spine-tingling howl which resonated through Lilly's skull, ringing like a bell.

"OK, OK, I got it! Yeesh, you're like a foghorn!" Lilly grunted, heaving herself to her feet. She wavered, a little unsure if she would fall before reflexes took over and she was able to steady herself. Sensations had long-since returned to her body, re-awakening the old aches and pains that came with being a seasoned warrior, but it was nothing less than what she was used to. Her head was still pounding like a kettledrum and though her body was more than likely fine, her essence had taken a severe pounding from that transferal.

_Speaking of which…_ she thought as she got up and the wolf followed her to the tiny kitchenette she'd managed to salvage throughout the years. _That was a pretty wicked experience._ Normally her transferals didn't take so long, and the only time they did was when the recipient had more pain than she could detect on the surface. _Poor thing, she's probably had to deal with more than I can even imagine. _

Lilly decided right then and there that there would be no returning to the wild for this wolf. She was hurt, scared and dealing with epically traumatic pain that would leave any weaker beast curled up in a ball. _There's no way I'm leaving her out on her lonesome, even if she's a bit fluffy for my taste. _She told herself firmly, reaching her mini kitchen. _No matter the stress, no matter the cost. I just won't do it! _

True to her style, the mismatched set was slightly Frankensteinic in origin and almost entirely painted coal-black. A small pot-belly wood stove tucked away in a corner, old cast iron pots and pans hanging from racks; a wooden spiral-legged table housed a camper stove in a plastic suit case connected to a propane tank, a hibachi, and coffee pot with a following of coffee cups clustered around it. A set of dusty black cabinets with a platform for preparing food completed the set, standing like a golem in the darkness.

Of course the hinges squeaked to all hell when she opened them. I_ don't know how in the hell I haven't been found out yet_, she mused for the billionth time. _They obviously don't give much of a damn about the safety of their queen. Not like anyone would want to hurt her. She's such a nice old lady._

Lilly wasn't fond of eating much human food- just mountain dew and sushi mostly. Spicy foods were a favorite but they didn't usually last too long without refrigeration. And since she had been pretty busy lately- far too busy to do something as mundane as eating or sleeping... sufficed to say her cupboards were pretty bare.

"Now I have to warn you, by _food_ I did mean a couple of pepperoni sticks and some crackers." Lilly told the wolf over her shoulder, stepping up onto her tip-toes to reach the back of the cupboards and make sure there wasn't anything hiding back there. She didn't hold much hope for that but you never knew. "I think I've got some tunafish stashed away somewhere. Do wolves like tunafish?"

She glanced over her shoulder, still rummaging through the cupboards and saw that the wolf was sitting in the middle of the room, looking none too happy.

"What?"

The wolf didn't move. It just kept staring at her from beneath hooded, light violet eyes that were vaguely menacing and Lilly actually had to fight not to break eye-contact with the creature.

"What is your problem?"

She whined plaintively, thumping her tail lightly against the ground.

_What the hell does she want?_ "_What?_ Is it because I just said-" she stopped, a small frown crinkling her nose. "Oh, oh I get it. You're mad because I don't have much food for you. Well I'm sorry, I don't usually have guests that eat. Hell I don't really eat that much either. So until I go out and grab some food you're just going to have to deal, alright?"

She still didn't look too pleased with the idea but when Lilly offered her one of the meat sticks she certainly didn't refuse. In fact she all but snapped her fingers off.

"Hey, ease up!" Lilly backed away, watching the apparently oblivious wolf settle down to munch on the stick of meat. "Bloody menace." She muttered, crossing the room to grab a bag. She would need it to carry all the food she would hopefully find in the kitchens of the Palace below.

The wolf looked up as Lilly opened the hatch, licking the grease from her lips and whined in confusion.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," she promised. "I'm just gonna go re-appropriate some food from her Maj and maybe borrow some videogames." The wolf started to rise. It looked like she wanted to come with but Lilly raised a finger. "Ah ah, no. You're staying here. For one, you can't climb the ladder. And for two, I can't risk them potentially seeing you."

She whined and tilted her head, looking confused.

"Don't you play dumb with me mutt. I know you can understand me. You are staying put." She turned to go and heard another plaintive whine. _Ugh, curse my soft heart._ "Tell you what, if you behave and don't tear my room apart, I'll bring back something special for you. Kay?"

The wolf yipped happily and thunked her tail against the floor.

Lilly winced at the noise and tried to shush the mutt. "OK OK, just stay quiet! I don't know if they can hear you or not but if you are seen I won't be able to do anything about it!"

The thunking ceased and the wolf resumed sitting patiently, waiting for her new friend to return.

The angel's gaze lingered on her for a few moments, then she shook her head and headed down the hatch. _Weird mutt._

Lilly had had many places to live over the decades. Most of them she only stayed in a few weeks before moving on, like a squatter. But each of them catered to her personal needs. They had been small and cozy, leaving not much room for anything but the necessities of life. Which, for Lilly, meant Manga books, a laptop, clothes, weapons and the occasional tv for when she got really bored. The attic was her main choice of residence mainly because it was private and located close enough to her brother so that she could make easy trips, should she need something.

Buckingham Palace, by contrast, was everything she disliked. It was big, drafty, there were more empty rooms than there were used ones, and it was primarily just for show. Seriously. The royal family did live there and on occasion she would see them walking around or in their rooms, Kate bouncing baby Charlotte on her knee. That baby was _so darn cuuute _it took all Lilly had not to pinch her chubby little cheeks each time she saw her.

There were 19 rooms open to the public on an almost daily basis but Lilly has explored all of them at one point or another, even the closets. The building was more a museum than anything at this point. However, the Royal family did have to eat. And that meant kitchens.

The kitchens of Buckingham Palace were almost as impressive as the Palace itself would be to a normal human. Employing several hundred people, only to dish out just enough to feed the family. Rather a waste in her opinion. But it seemed to make them happy. So who was she to judge?

Lilly strolled deftly past the open doors leading into the family's rooms, ignoring the cleaning people moving up and down the staircases like mice, trying to keep the whole place spotless. She didn't need to sneak or even hide herself, because they couldn't see her. No one could, and she reveled in it. But only in times like this.

Meats stood in a massive metal walk-in fridge, vegetables in bins lining the walls and steel tables, work lines and ovens framed the whole huge room. People were working to prepare dinner and it didn't take anything for her to nip inside the fridge, pull out a chunk of uncooked pork loin still in its plastic packaging and stuff it in her bag. She did the same with a chunk of ham, thick bones that were probably destined for either stock or the bin, some salmon, various fruits and vegetables- just in case the wolf had a particular hankering for healthy stuff, and a tin of cookies that were sitting out on the table.

She contemplated dropping by the kennels outside and pilfering some dog food, but then dismissed the thought. _She'll just have to be happy with what I've brought._

And she most certainly was. The wolf bounded across the room and greeted her with a barrage of licking and happy barks, jumping up onto her back feet and putting her paws on Lilly's shoulders. She stood dead to rights as tall as Lilly was and heavy enough to drive her back a few feet.

Lilly dropped the bag and embraced her new friend, laughing as she tried to avoid the lick-attack. "Alright alright mutt, jeez I was only gone for a few minutes! You act like I've been gone for a year!"

The wolf merely barked again and nuzzled her face against Lilly's cheek and under her chin.

_Weirdly affectionate for a wolf,_ she thought, ducking out from underneath the wolf's massive paws and picking the bag back up which drew the attention of her new friend. The wolf poked her nose into it, sniffing and wagging her tail.

"Yes yes, I'm getting there. Keep your tail on!" Lilly said, laughing as she tried to pull the bag out of her hands, so eager to eat was she. "Here, is this what you want?" She pulled out the hunk of ham and unwrapped it with a quick flick of her switchblade.

The wolf's eyes went wide and Lilly cut a smaller chunk off so that it wouldn't choke.

"Up!" She ordered, holding the piece of fatty meat aloft. Everybody, wolf or not, still had to work for their supper. "Up up, come on. You can do it."

The wolf hopped up on its hind legs and batted at the air with her paws, panting like a marathon runner. Saliva dripped from her jowls and she yipped impatiently.

"OK, here ya go. Good girl." The meat flew through the air and the wolf caught it with a snap, chewing happily. She tossed another and another, each time the wolf caught it without apparent effort. "There, that's better huh?" She rubbed the wolf's side and it leaned its head into her stomach, very content.

As she stroked its side, Lilly felt some of the wounds that had been healing over the past few days and realized that she needed to check them. So she took the rest of the bag over to the nest and beckoned for the wolf to follow her. "I'll give you the rest if you let me look at those wounds of yours." She told it and the wolf obeyed, trotting over to the next and plunking down beside her. Lilly gave her the one of the bones to gnaw on while she worked and this seemed to sate her. The wolf laid her head down and quietly chewed her treat, stopping every now and then to lick Lilly's hand if it strayed too close to her mouth.

It turned out that the majority of the smaller wounds had sealed, almost overnight, and the bigger ones weren't that far away from being totally healed themselves. She applied a little more anti-biotic gook to the bandages, wrapped them up, checked the cotton packing on the burns and re-applied aloe vera to help with the stinging sensations, and all the while the wolf didn't even complain once.

"There, all done!" Lilly folded her arms, looking satisfactorily at her work. "You were a good puppy. You can have the rest of your treats now if you want them." She offered up the bag but the wolf seemed to be exhausted from her whole ordeal and merely laid her head down on the floor, curling up at her feet. "Ooh, I see. Alright, I'll leave you to sleep." She stood and gently tip-toed away, off to play some video-games and eat a meager meal before going to sleep.

That was the plan, anyway. But, like most nights she ended up zoned out in front of the TV, playing _Okami_ on a speed rollarcoaster of Mountain Dew and cheesy chips, battling a giant eight-headed serpent of darkness named Orochi. "HAHA, DIE YOU SNAKE, DIE!" She cried, delivering the final blow and tossing her controller up in the air, leaving to her feet and doing a little victory-dance. "YE-US! YES! Victory is mine!"

But she was halted in her mad celebration- and really, she'd beaten the game over fifteen times. This wasn't anything new -by a nudge against her leg and a quiet whimper. She looked down to see the wolf gazing balefully up at her.

"Oh...hey puppy." She grinned sheepishly, patting her head. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

The wolf licked her hand as a sign of forgiveness. _You did, but I forgive you._

"Yeah. I thought as much. You hungry?" Lilly reached for the bag of leftover food and handed her a smaller chunk of salmon. The wolf accepted it graciously and started to chew, but stopped, looking at her with wide, thoughtful eyes. "What?"

She nudged Lilly's outstretched hand once, then twice. Very insistently.

"What? Don't you like salmon?"

The wolf dropped the salmon in answer, but just as quickly bent her head down and picked up an apple that had rolled out of the bag. There was a sharp crunch as fangs sank into fragile flesh and apple meat, but before Lilly could react the wolf pushed the apple against her hand. And all at once, she understood.

"Thanks wolfie," she said, smiling and petting her head. "But I don't eat much. You can have it if you want, but I'm good."

The wolf whined but she was firm about it. She didn't need the nourishment, she did. She didn't need the energy, the wolf did. And, of course, the wolf was still healing. But the wolf had her big wide puppy-dog eyes on her side and Lilly finally relented and ate a few bites out of the apple. The wolf yipped happily and began to eat her salmon again.

"Yeah yeah, laugh it up mutt." Lilly grumbled, plunking down in her dumpy black leather chair and picking up her controller. "But I really don't eat much. Joys of being a spirit. My body doesn't need food and it's normally just an inconvenience if I need to stop mid-flight for a bathroom break."

The wolf lifted her head and regarded her thoughtfully. She didn't notice it at first, too busy restarting her game but as the opening credits began and she was able to pull her gaze away from the screen without worry that her character- which was, coincidentally a white wolf with red markings –would be killed. She felt eyes burning a hole in the side of her face and glanced down, straight in the eyes of the wolf. They stared at each other for a minute before Lilly spoke.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer pup."

The wolf scratched herself behind the ear, clearly not caring. Then the intro music came on and her attention snapped to the screen. Lilly laughed.

"Great, another nerd. Don't tell me you _know_ this game?" She watched the wolf stand up and walk over to the screen, sniffing it warily. "It's a tv, pup. Haven't you ever-" she paused, frowning. "We really need to get you a name, you know. I'm getting kinda sick of calling you pup and wolfie. Plus it's not in any way dignified for a majestic beast of your stature."

The wolf sneezed and sent herself sprawling across the room which sent up a flare of dust. Several sneezes later, Lilly saw her sit up slowly and walk back over, her eyes watery and she had the goofiest grin plastered over her muzzle.

"Well, you need a name anyway." She chuckled, patting her side. "Lay down here. I'll play for a few more minutes while we try to think up something to call you. How about Amoux?"

The wolf looked at her as if she were totally nuts.

"Sorry, just a thought. It means something like Eagle-wolf in Inuit and I thought it sounded cool. Should I stick with non-wolfie names?" The wolf shrugged her shaggy shoulders and Lilly heart the intro music end, prompting her to turn her attention back to the game. "OK…what about Susie?"

She was lucky the wolf didn't bite her leg. It growled.

"Alrighty then… Parish?"

And so it went, Lilly playing her videogame and swigging liters of soda, the wolf lying on the floor, covering her cold bare feet like a massive breathing rug. The angel continued to bounce name ideas off her friend, trying to find something that sounded nice, respectable and it her personality but each time she was rejected. Anya, Rosita, Bell, Keira, Blaze, Dana, Janet and Honshu were all snorted away into the wind and she was about to just say screw it and call the wolf just Wolf. And then it happened.

It was about half-way through the game. Her white and red-marked wolf character Amaterasu and their little green buggy companion Issun, a wandering midget artist no bigger than a tulip bulb, were fighting a blonde guy with flowy fox-ear things shooting out of his head that talked French and had a flute sword/thingy. She won the fight and cried, "Yeah, you go Ammy!" Which was, of course, what the little green guy had nick-names Amaterasu.

The wolf barked and Lilly, who had practically forgotten she was there, dropped her controller with a curse.

"Jeez mutt, don't scare me like that!" She scolded. "I almost pissed myself!"

The wolf was sitting up, front legs braced on the floor and was staring intently at the screen.

"What? What is it?"

Issun's dialog was still floating on the screen, along with Amaterasu and Issun himself. They were looking up at the canopy of the trees where the blonde had disappeared and Issun was saying, _Way'ta go Ammy, we sure whooped that pretty-boy!_

The wolf barked again.

"What? Do you need to go out or something?" Then Lilly saw what she was looking at and smirked. "See a familiar face?" She patted the wolf's head. "That's Amaterasu, the Japanese sun goddess. In this game she's supposed to be the mother of all spirits and shows up in the form of a beautiful white wolf with red markings and weapons on her back. The white thingies on her heels and shoulders are supposed to be clouds, but they look more like flames to me. In myths, she's supposed to be an Okami- hence the name of the game." Lilly put down her controller and showed her friend the game case which depicted the clover logo of the company that developed it, as well as Issun and Ammy herself. "Pretty huh?"

The wolf whined a bit and nuzzled the cover of the case.

"Easy mutt, this is a rental. Ammy's not going any-"

Another bark interrupted her.

"What? What did I say?" She demanded. "All I said was Ammy-"

Another bark.

_Wait a second…_ "Ammy?" Lilly leaned forward, peering intently into the eyes of the wolf. "Is that the name you want? Ammy?"

The wolf licked her face and the deal was sealed.

"Alright then, Ammy it is. I gotta say I like that much better than any of the other options. And it suits you, being a white wolf with markings and all. Ammy…" She repeated, savoring the slightly exotic name. She'd said it many times before but mostly when she was yelling at her screen. It seemed…better now. More lively, now that it belonged to someone. "I love it!"

The newly-named Ammy gave a happy howl and once again nearly knocked Lilly over trying to get up into her lap and give her lickes, snuggles and other tokens of her appreciation.

Lilly gasped at the weight of having a fully-grown wolf leap into her lap and almost immediately tried to push her off. "Grah! Jeez Ammy you're a frikking freight train! _Get off!_" But she was powerless against the dynamic tongue and massive paws that slammed into her legs as she turned around and around, trying to get the right angle to sit in and still be able to lick her face. Finally, she found a spot that was comfortable and sat down with a dull _whomp!_ that knocked Lilly's breath away and made the chair creak. Lilly herself could barely see over the top of her new friend's shoulders and was as such privied to a landscape of white and violet. She sighed and laid her head against Ammy's back. "Ah well. At least you're safe here and not out somewhere all alone."


	24. Angel In Black Jeans

**Mortals, I have returned. Shortly, you will read what most of you have been looking forward to! Thank you for all the wonderful support- especially all the people who want to read it but they're so insanely busy with their schoolwork that they can't find the time, yes Lilly I'm talking to you. You're kicking ass and I miss you, and I can't wait to see your thoughts on this! **

**I'm so excited to present this next chapter! Enjoy!**

* * *

From that point on, they were utterly inseparable. Lilly spent every waking moment that she could, which was literally _every_ moment she was awake, with Ammy. One of the joys of having a job that didn't require nightly dedication. She didn't really need to leave her tower unless a significant source of pain flared up on her radar and even if it did, Lilly pointedly ignored it. She had someone to care for now, and was entitled to a few vacation days. It wasn't quite maternity leave, but the creature she was taking care of certainly acted like a baby some times.

Particularly when she wasn't getting any chocolate.

"It's _not good for you!_" Lilly insisted after having to wrestle Ammy away from her super-secret stash of milk chocolate for the third time after re-hiding it. Gods above, that wolf had the nose of a _bloodhound!_ "I don't know how many times I've told you this! Chocolate can make you sick and I'm not in the mood," she added, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at the violet wolf. "To be cleaning up wolfie puke. Understand?"

And then, of course Ammy would give her those big, round green puppy-dog eyes and Lilly would turn away in utter disgust. But, eventually she would give in. She always did.

"Maybe that's your magic," she grumbled, tossing a mini chocolate cake to her companion who caught it with a snap of her jaws. "The unyielding puppy-dog eyes. That would sure explain a lot, like why I let you sleep on my bed every night."

It was true. Ever since giving her her name, Ammy refused to let Lilly sleep alone.

She would whine, nuzzle her with her cold, wet nose and even bark if the angel had her curly head stuffed under a pillow, trying to drown her out. There was one night early in when the little fiend had even pulled all of her blankets off her bed and sat on them until Lilly, after quite a bit of swearing and threatening to turn her into a rug unless she gave the damn things back, agreed to let her sleep on the bed.

It was sort of comical, actually. Lilly standing there in her black briefs and a skimpy tank-top, curls quivering with indignation while Ammy just blinked back at her innocently. But the wolf had won and the next night saw her curled up right beside Lilly, head resting on her pillow and the both of them sleeping soundly.

Of course, there were a few problems that came alone with their living situation. Namely, Lilly being woken up at six in the morning by a massive pink tongue and a good-morning trample. She was a night person, this had already been established, and since she didn't sleep much because of all the caffeine running through her body it was a miracle she could sleep at all. Her demeanor upon waking had been…testy at best. Once she got coffee into her system it got better, but the later she slept in the better she felt. Her favorite hour to return to the land of the living was just around noon but once Ammy started licking her awake she became downright foul in the morning.

She would wake up, shove Ammy off the side of the bed and stomp over to the kitchen to start making coffee. The decades of living alone had taught her to prep her coffee machine right before she went to bed, erasing any precious minutes between waking and receiving said coffee and lessening the likelihood of sudden disaster. All she had to do was push a button.

Ammy watched her closely the first couple mornings, noticing how she didn't like being licked and didn't even really talk until she drank some of that browny water stuff. So, logically she assumed that her new friend was clean enough and didn't need an early morning bath, and that the brown liquid somehow made her able to talk after drinking it. And the next morning, she got up- _without_ any licking. Just a good morning nose-boop that did nothing but make her jerk a little in her sleep –and pushed the little red button on the black machine that made the brown liquid. The cup was filled and Ammy beamed with pride. There. Now Lilly wouldn't be so grumpy in the mornings.

And she was right!

The second she started getting her coffee earlier, Lilly's disposition did a total turn-around. Where normally she would have to wait to play with her until late afternoon, Ammy was now able to coax her into belly-rubs, food and tugawar as early as ten! And Lilly never even questioned who or what was making the coffee.

With her mornings complete, and because she suspected Ammy was getting insanely bored being cooped up in here with her all day, the angel in question decided to spend the time wisely and teach her wolf a few things not limited to normal wolf or dog stuff.

Lilly liked to think of herself as a student of the world and, by consequence, had learned a fair bit about all subjects, including history, theology, science, and even some spirit knowledge. And, because Ammy was some sort of spirit she figured any information could help. She started out as more telling her bed-time stories than anything. Grandiose tales of battles and glory, sagas re-told for the millionth time and magical epics of damsels, spirits, monsters, demons and gods that walked unseen in the lands of men.

Ammy appeared to be pretty interested, especially when she brought out some of the books she'd collected over the centuries. They would sit for hours on the futon, Lilly reading from her books while Ammy listened. And when the book was finished they would talk for even longer, until the night turned to day and Lilly fell back against the bed, utterly exhausted after not having moved an inch.

As time wore on, Ammy began to grow stronger. She could walk without staggering at all, the burns had healed magnificently and any limps she'd exhibited before were solely for drama's sake now. Lilly was immensely pleased with the progress she was making and encouraged her to get up and walk around, keeping the pain at bay by preforming the transferal nightly as her wolf slept. She didn't know if Ammy knew what she was doing, but the goofy, lop-sided smile on her face made the secret definitely worth keeping.

Lilly would've definitely preferred that Ammy stay in the attic, but you know what they say. You can't keep a lone wolf caged.

It was in this way that Lilly woke up one morning, expecting to feel a big, furry lug lying next to her but when her hand stretched across to the place Ammy would be, she found nothing. "Ammy?" She murmured, still half in the throngs of sleep. _Was she resting at the foot of the bed?_ Sometimes she did do that, when she rolled in her sleep. Lilly felt along the edge of her bed with her leg and when she felt nothing, her eyes snapped open. "Ammy?"

Lilly would never admit it, but there was something very reassuring about having Ammy there that she had realized over the past week of having her here. The warm glow in her heard when she felt Ammy's chest rumbling like thunder upon inhaling, and then getting a cloud of hot air in the face as she exhaled.

That being said, when she couldn't find her wolf, Lilly panicked. She sat bolt upright, looking around frantically. "Ammy!" Stumbling out of bed and tripping quite a few times over her own feet, Lilly raced around the room like a madwoman, tearing through the boxes and piles of junk scattered around the room, searching desperately for her. Lilly had severe separation anxiety, once she got close enough to someone for it to take hold, that is. Her brother was the one person she could stand not seeing for months on end and it had taken almost three hundred years to work her out of that internal nightmare. Imagine what she was feeling now…

"Ammy!" She screamed. "Where are you?!" She wasn't here. Then where was she?! _Downstairs!_ Her brain thundered. _Maybe she was screwing around with the hatch and she fell!_

Lilly whirled around and launched herself at the hatch, practically tearing it open with a viciousness that rivaled the ancient big cats of old and propelling herself down. She continued to call Ammy's name, stalking down the halls of the massive establishment, her massive books echoing off the eerily silent walls. They hadn't yet had the opportunity to test whether the humans or the Royal family could see Ammy yet but if they could…

"Follow the screams." She muttered, breaking into a run. "Ammy, get over here you Lupine fizzletwit! No more chocolate for a year!"

Dead silence. Then, miraculously, she heard a whine and charged at the door leading to it.

It was there that she found the oddest scene she had as of yet come across in her three hundred and twenty six years as a spirit. Queen Elizabeth II herself was sitting on the red sofa just inside the room, patting Ammy and feeding her little posh cakes from a silver tray and murmuring, "That's a good dog. Good girl."

Lilly froze, not even daring to breathe. She wasn't sure if it was the fear of Ammy being seen or the Royal aura that British aristocrats held but something told her to _stay the hell_ _put_ and not to move.

Ammy, of course, saw her friend and barked happily, causing Lilly to wince. "Shut up!" She hissed. "She can't see me!"

Her purple-painted friend whined in confusion and the Queen frowned. "What's wrong dear? Don't you like lemon cakes?"

Ammy turned back to her and smiled, her tongue lolling out from between sharp teeth. Elizabeth II beamed.

"There now, that's better. Would you like a biscuit?" She held up a crumbly little baked good and Ammy leaped up on her hind legs, familiar with this little dance. She yipped and bayed, eager for the treat that looked so much like a pale chocolate cake and the Queen laughed, tossing it to her. She had to do a little backflip to catch it, but catch it she did and Elizabeth clapped.

"Oh good show, good show."

"Yeas, good show." Lilly growled, clenching her fists. "Now we must be going Ammy, come on. Leave the nice Queen to her Queen stuff. Come on." She beckoned for Ammy to follow but Ammy was hesitant. She glanced back at Elizabeth who still had plenty of treats. "Ammy," Lilly warned in a low growl. "If you don't get your scrawny hide over here I will turn you inside out and make you into a handbag!"

Ammy lowered her head and, tail hanging between her legs, followed Lilly back to the attic.

_I do hope someone comes along to put her back in her kennel, _Elizabeth thought as she watched the lovely dog lumber off. _Such a glossy coat. It certainly doesn't look like a hunting dog though, with that glossy coat and those lovely eyes, it should be a show dog. Maybe it's one of Kate's._ She mused, turning back to her tea not one second before her youngest son Edward stepped in from the drawing room.

"Mother, are you here?"

"Oh, Edward dear." She rose to greet him with a warm hug. "You really shouldn't let the house dogs wander around sweet," she scolded as he pulled away and kissed her on the cheek.

Edward blinked, utterly thrown by the statement. "Whatever do you mean mother? All the dogs are in their kennels. I was just there, visiting Rupert and the new pups."

Elizabeth frowned, looking over her youngest's shoulder at the doorway where the beautiful white dog had been not moments before. "Curious…"

Meanwhile, poor Ammy was cringing on her bed while Lilly shouted and kicked furniture. "_Why on earth_ would you go down there?!" She demanded, delivering an angry blow to the corner of her chair with her foot. "WHY, Ammy?! Aren't I good enough company that you have to seek out the _Queen?!_ You scared me half to death you damned mutt! Didn't you care to stop and think about how I would've felt, had you just up and left me without any warning?!" But it wasn't really rage fueling her fit. It was fear. And Ammy could feel it.

Lilly threw a punch at the wall, screaming in rage because she would not allow herself to hit Ammy. That would put her below slime on the moral scale. "GRAH! I'm so angry I don't even know what to do with you Ammy! You deliberately ignored me when I told you never to go downstairs without me!" She rounded on the wolf, her shoulders heaving with emotions. Namely terror, but she couldn't stand to see that look of pity in Ammy's eyes, so she just masked it with unrelenting fury. "DELIBERATELY! That's what really pisses me off, you did it _on purpose!_ While I was asleep, you didn't wait for me!"

Ammy whined plaintively. _I'm sorry…_

She scoffed derisively. "Yeah well, sorry's not gonna fix the fact that the royal family now think there's a _wolf_ running around their Palace. And if they come up here and I have to leave all my stuff then so help me Ammy…" She raised a rueful fist and shook it. "I will leave you on the _streets_ to fend for yourself- UGH!" She cried and suddenly the world took a rapid turn for the horizontal. Her face slammed into the ground and pain erupted like a popped pimple, spreading across her cheeks.

_Holy shit what was that?!_ Her ears were ringing from impact and the blood steadily dripping down her forehead from a minor cut wasn't helping her vision. _Somebody get the godsdamn number of that bus._ Ugh. She was going to be spitting up blood for the next few days, of that she was sure.

Her brain hadn't yet caught up enough to process the facts it was being presented with. Lilly tried to roll over but when she heard a low growl inches from her ear, she froze. "A-Ammy?" _Shiiiit._ It was the _wolf_ that had knocked her down!

Ammy let out another growl, lower this time and Lilly felt the pressure on her back increase. The wolf was on top of her, she guessed. Pinning her. And she seemed pissed. _I shouldn't have made that crack about leaving her on the streets_… She could try to roll her off but with the way those massive razor claws were digging into her jacket, just millimeters away from the skin she very much doubted that would work.

"Ammy, I swear I didn't mean it!" She stammered, unused to being in any situation in which she wasn't the aggressor and so she defaulted to the hated blubbering. "Please, let me up! I promise I won't leave you alone on the streets I would never do that- ah!"

The claws were digging into her back now, shredding the skin like butter. Her paws were placed right up on Lilly's shoulders, digging into the nubs where her wings sprouted from her body and she felt the tears of terror rolling down her face. _Sickening,_ she thought. _The Black Hurricane, reduced to begging a wolf._

"Ammy, please! _Please!_ Don't do this!"

She waited long seconds, holding her breath and hoping against hope that the wolf didn't decide to eat her like the chicken she was. _It would serve me right, after all the grief I just gave her._ And really, what did it matter if she got kicked out of here? The place was a dump! She would much rather stay at the pagoda than here in smoggy old London any day of the week!

_Focus dammit,_ she told herself. _Either your new friend is about to eat you, or she's about to get off. Either way, you want to be able to move fast._

Her hot breath crisped the back of her neck and added to the already sweatiness that Lilly was experiencing and the more time that passed, the more she expected to feel Ammy's shining teeth tearing into her cheek within the next few seconds. Flesh would be ripped form her bones and it would be a fight to the death which, in all actuality, Lilly doubted she would win. If she could get her wings out…maybe…

But it never came.

A few more heartbeats and suddenly, all at once she felt the massive weight that had been crushing her lift. It took her a second to get up, groaning with the effort that popped quite a few joints in the process and made her feel old. Her stomach, which had been being squeezed against the floor for the better part of ten minutes, suddenly did a flip-flop from the rapid orientation-change and a well of nausea washed over her.

"Ugh," Lilly doubled over, hands bracing herself on her own knees as she tried to quell the sick feeling. _Next time I get tackled by a wolf I'll remember to use pads._

Speaking of which…

"Shit- Ammy? Ammy, where are you?" She straightened, scanning the surroundings with a meticulous eye. Nothing white was leaping out at her, literally or figuratively, and for one brief moment she feared the wolf had left again!

Then she heard the whimpering and the sound of a light blow, drawing her eyes to a darkened corner. She approached, cautiously. Ammy was cowering in the corner again, huddled up with one paw over her face and there were scratches on her muzzle. Fresh ones.

"Ammy!" Lilly was at her side in an instant, all amenity forgotten as she pulled her friend's paw away from her nose and inspected the wounds. They were deep, and self-inflicted. "What are you doing?!"

Ammy wouldn't even meet her eyes. Lilly had to tuck her hand beneath her furry chin and coax her to look up, and even then her eyes were glassy and lifeless, like she wasn't even there.

_What've I done?_

It took Lilly about a day to get any sort of response from Ammy after the indecent. She wouldn't move or even make a noise, but Lilly knew she was still there. Somewhere. She would not give up, she would _not_ abandon her!

In the meantime, all the angel could really do was treat her new wounds, disinfect them and bandage them carefully. She had to pick Ammy up and carry her to the bed to be able to see what she was doing, which was a feat in and of itself. The wolf had to weigh almost a hundred and thirty pounds of dead weight, not counting fluff. She ended up having to lay Ammy on a blanket and drag her, sled-style, to the bed and use the blankets to lift her up. It was an arduous task that took the better part of three hours but, in the end, Lilly was satisfied.

Of course she still wasn't happy with the situation, given that she'd practically terrified the poor creature- and really, it had been rather mutual, but it was a step in the right direction.

After bandaging her wounds and trying to tempt her with some food, which she didn't even twitch a whisker at, Lilly resigned herself to sitting beside her, reading aloud from one of her books and running her hand up and down Ammy's back to sooth her. But she fell asleep not long after starting chapter four and woke up to a familiar pink tongue in her face.

"Ammy!" She cried, over-joyed to see her wolf back again. She exploded from the blankets and wrapped gangly arms around her beloved friend's neck. "Ammy I'm _sooooo sorry_ I would have never done that to you, I acted like a bitch but I love you I'm soooo sorry for all I've put you through!"

There weren't words to describe how relieved she was, and Ammy seemed to feel the same way because once she realized her friend was awake she jumped up into her lap and knocked her down among the pillows, licking her face and nuzzling her under the chin to show that all was forgiven.

Lilly laughed, giggling as the fur tickled her skin. "Oh Ammy, you're such a wonderful wolfie! I don't ever _ever_ want to see you go!" She pulled Ammy close and the wolf laid down on top of her, her tongue occasionally flicking out to catch a bit of skin she hadn't already slobbered over and they just stayed there, girl and wolf, happy to have each other back after that awful ordeal.

_I have to make it up to her with more than hugs and food,_ Lilly told herself after finally getting up the next morning. Ammy was still asleep, having rolled off of her during the night. The last thing she wanted was for this to happen again or- gods forbid, it to create any animosity between them! And what better way to show her I'm sorry than to do the thing she enjoys most!

Playtime.

And it wouldn't be selective to the attic anymore either. It couldn't be. Now that Ammy had tasted the outside world Lilly knew she would want to explore more and she was all for that. It might be weird having a white wolf walking alone in the middle of London, but as long as she wasn't picked out as a wolf and people thought she was one of those arctic shaggy dogs.

The first time they ventured outside, Ammy went utterly berserk. The lights, the sounds, the people, it was obvious to Lilly from the start that it was too much for her.

_This is what I get for leaving her_ _in that damn attic for_ _two weeks,_ she bitched to herself as she lugged the poor over-whelmed wolf, who, after running around like a violet cyclone for about ten minutes and totally oblivious to her friend's attempts to calm her down had suddenly collapsed in a quivering ball of fluff with her paws over her eyes, up the steps back into the Palace. _I should've let her out before now! Now she's probably traumatized._

She berated herseld all the way back to their room and, once Ammy was safely inside, only then did the poor thing uncover her eyes and blink owlishly up at her, the very pinnacle of confusion and fear.

"Hey, girl, it's OK." Lilly soothed, patting her gently along her back. The wounds had all but disappeared. "I know the outside might seem pretty scary and I know I should've warned you about the light but it really isn't that bad."

Ammy's eyes shined reproachfully but Lilly could tell she was forgiven. Instantly. There wasn't even a hint of anger or resentment in those cool green eyes. There never was. She was as forgiving as any creature ever.

They took it slowly, very slowly. Once a day Lilly would take Ammy out for a few minutes, then ten, then twenty and so on until she felt comfortable walking on earth and looking at sky again. Those first few days were so interesting, mostly for Lilly. The way Ammy reacted upon touching the hot gravel for the first time since probably before the fire- or maybe ever. Lilly had no idea –was pretty much like putting a cucumber next to a cat. She jumped around a foot off the ground, yelping like her hair had been set on fire and hobbled over to Lilly who was standing in the shade, whimpering.

_It's like she doesn't know what it feels like, _the slightly amused angel realized the first time it happened. This wasn't the first time, either. Every time Ammy heard a car driving along the road her eyes would widen and her ears would prick up, but she wouldn't. She would just stand there, as still as a statue, head lifted in the direction of the noise.

Lilly watched placidly, waiting for something to happen but…to her utter amazement, it didn't. Ammy simply listened to the car and, once it had passed, she shrugged her shaggy shoulders and padded delicately across the lawn to sit by her side again, panting. She pushed her head beneath Lilly's hand and the angel scratched her thoughtfully.

"What a weird mutt…"

They spent hours on end teaching her how to fetch bones in the shade of the courtyard trees- which, for the record, Ammy resented but she let the strange, winged girl throw them anyway and would always bring them back. Occasionally Lilly would put on some music- something gentle for Ammy's sensitive ears and Ammy would go totally nuts, running around in circles while Lilly simply laughed at her. And, when that got too tiring they would loaf around on the couch, playing video-games, watching tv and just enjoying each other's company and life in general. It was a good time to be a spirit. Lilly couldn't even remember when she'd had this much fun!

Eventually, she had to start leaving the Palace to do her job again. But she made sure to wait until Ammy knew all about how to get downstairs without being seen, ducking in empty rooms and keeping to the outside corridors. The wolf picked up on this skill quite quickly and, in spite of her size and colouring, Lilly found that she was able to blend in with the darkness to an almost indistinguishable degree.

Life became…almost perfect. For both of them. Days were spent either playing, reading or with Ammy at the Palace, being secretly pampered by the Queen and Lilly out on her job. It was…quite frankly the happiest the angel could ever remember being since her death at the stake. And that was what worried her.

She'd been around long enough to know that the universe, God, Aether, Karma, whatever the hell had control over the ebb and flow of the universe take your pick really, whatever it was that made things be and made things not be, it never ever lasted. _Ever_. It had been tested time and time again. Humans knew it but, in their infinite stupidity, they didn't really seem to care and kept on clinging to that foolish hope that joy, contentment, peace, the elements that made life worth living would all be heaped upon them, never to run out or leave them wanting.

Complete and utter bullshit.

Spirits knew the drill- at least most of them did. Some of them were still in denial but she chose not to pass judgement upon them. They would learn. Slowly but surely they would learn, just like she had. Happiness was arbitrary and it never lasted longer than it needed to rip the still-beating heart out of the poor sap that still believed the second it was taken away.

_I've been on the receiving end of that soul-crushing sensation more times than I can count_, were her thoughts on the matter as she flew home from a successful night of hunting pain. _So really, what should one more time matter?_

Defeatism at its best and brightest. Then Micha, nosy old big brother that had brought her back from the dead, his words came trickling back to her. _Never stop asking. One day I might actually be able to tell you._

"It's a nice dream," she conceded, alighting on the balcony and deftly flipping the latch. "Really. I would love for it to be true but after all that's happened the old 'there's no strings on me' act doesn't do it for me anymore." And why? Because it's just not true.

She often posed little philosophical debates to herself when she was alone out on a flight which, up until this point, had been most of her time. And she hardly ever ended up with satisfactory answers to them. Then again, Philosophy isn't a hard-knock science. It was the idea of stuff, and her idea of happiness was one that was brief; a ray of moonlight, swiftly cutting a swath through the undyingly bitter dark which would just swiftly gobble it back up.

The first thing she noticed wrong was the food.

Lilly usually left some snacks for Ammy to munch on while she was out doing her job, but tonight they were in the exact same place as they had been when she'd left, untouched. Bells, whistles, red flags, the whole shebang started going off in Lilly's head.

"Ammy! Ammy I'm home!" She called into the eerie silence.

She didn't receive a response.

That was the second thing wrong. She expected Ammy to come barreling out of the darkness like a friend train, knock her down and proceed licking her face, as was customary but all she heard was silence.

"Ammy!" Her wings retracted into her back and headed deeper into the attic. "Ammy! It's Lilly, where are you mutt?" _Steady, steady on. Breathe. This had happened before, don't panic._

Unfortunately, the wolf appeared to have a bad habit of making Lilly terrified for her sake. She didn't do it intentionally- at least, not often. But she contributed to the situations which made Lilly freak out on more than one occasion. Whither it was because she was downstairs and hadn't heard her calling, she was asleep or playing a game, it didn't matter. Lilly would worry regardless and it drove her absolutely insane sometimes but she truly could not help it! So many years of being a _'I can take care of myself, by myself, with myself'_ person… a spirit could only take so much of that.

And yet, in spite of her intelligence telling her not to panic that's exactly what Lilly did. _I swear to the gods if she's playing hide and seek I'm going to murder her!_ "Ammy! Where are you?" If she'd been sleeping she was sure to have woken up by now. That left downstairs and the rest of the attic.

Lilly opened the hatch and stuck her head down into the Palace, hollering Ammy's name. She waited for a good ten minutes, ignoring the blood rushing to her head and watching the hallways with fierce, almost fervent determination but when Ammy didn't at least howl to let her know where she was, she slammed the hatch shut and resumed looking in the attic.

By the time she actually did find Ammy- and to her utter disgust it didn't take that much looking. She was lying on the floor in the small nook between Lilly's futon mattress and the wall, unconscious. Not asleep, but unconscious.

Lilly wasn't quite sure what to do.

"Ammy?" She shook the wolf but received no response. She was still breathing- that was good. _But it was shallow. What the hell happened?! Of course it had to happen while I'm gone, it couldn't be any other time._

Of course not. That would quite defeat the purpose.

She dug her black-nailed fingers underneath Ammy's considerable bulk and hauled her up onto the bed where she could see better. A quick once-over and nothing seemed to be wrong physically. She wasn't bleeding and all her old wounds had long-since healed. So what the hell-?!

"Ammy, wake up! Come on Ammy wake up!" She shook and tried to rouse the unconscious wolf. Panic was starting to seep into her voice and though she tried to remain calm and collected, it was hard when Ammy wouldn't even twitch a muscle.

She waited and waited, hoping for a sign of life and just when she was about to give up all hope, Ammy's leg twitched. Lilly didn't catch it immediately because it was such a subtle movement, but then her other leg twitched more visibly and her paw started patting at thin air and a low series of whimpers issued from her closed mouth.

"Ammy?" Lilly shook her again and was thrilled to see an eye crack open and stare blearily up at her. "Ammy, you're alive!"

Ammy moaned like a tree in the wind and her eye closed.

"No nononono no Ammy, don't go back to sleep! Wake up, wake up!" She kept on shaking and shaking her until the eye opened again and she whined. "There, th-that's better." Lilly cringed at the stammer in her voice but forged on. "Now what's wrong girl, what is it?"

Ammy tried to lift her head off the ground but appeared not to have the strength and her head flopped back onto the floor after a few seconds' attempt. Another plaintive moan issued from her lips and all she could do was blink dully up at her friend, unable to communicate even in the most basic way.

And then convulsing started.

It hit her out of nowhere. One second Lilly was stroking her flank, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what to do to help her friend, the next she was thrown to the side as Ammy reared up almost in a sitting position, snarling viciously before crashing back down onto the ground and starting to shake and thrash.

Lilly scrambled back, if only to get out of the way of those razored claws. She called her name but Ammy didn't seem to hear her. All she could do was watch as her the strange wolf that had become her friend whined and groaned like she was being torn apart from the inside, rolling and thrashing wildly.

Her eyes opened not long after the fit washed over her and Lilly almost leaped into the rafters out of shock. Instead she clutched Ammy's paw and her own hand, gazing in terror at the glowing violet irises that had taken the place of the cool, green ones Lilly had come to know so well. _Well…I guess that tears it then._ She thought. _She's magical._ There was no doubt about this anymore.

In the beginning, Lilly had _more_ than doubted Ammy's existence as a magical creature. She looked, acted, ate, slept and played just like a normal wolf would. Albeit without the killer instinct, but that was something any lupine could be bred out of. Yes, her brother had said that she was magical; yes she had the markings that looked to be natural pigment, not dyed or painted; and yes, damn it all to hell, she seemed to understand every single word Lilly said to her as if she were human-

"Oh…shit…"

She could see it happening even before the light glow of violet haze settled over the wolf's body. She wasn't a wolf at all, she was something altogether different. But what?

Lilly didn't have time to answer. Within seconds, the violet haze had grown so thick that it completely obscured her vision and was growing alarmingly bright. So bright that it hurt to even look in that direction and Lilly was forced to cover her face and eyes, if only to avoid semi-permanent blindness.

The waiting was hell. Every second she had to hold her breath and hope her wolf was alright was about ten years off her life she was being stressed out of. She tried to peek but was rewarded with a blinding ray of hiss-worthy light straight to the eyeball. She only did that twice before learning her lesson and was forced to wait. Not patiently, no. Never patiently. Patient is not an adjective that can be applied to Lilly. Ever. One would think it would be easier to be patient as an immortal, knowing that you've got the time but it's quite the opposite. Annoyingly so, sometimes, to the point where Lilly literally had to duck her face into her shirt to keep from looking.

Finally, after a harsh eternity, the light died down and she was able to safely remove the covers from her eyes. What she found lying there nearly made her want to cover them again.

"Damn. Why can't these shape-shifter types ever have clothes on when they turn back?!" She grumbled, immediately reaching for a blanket.

Once the girl had her modesty returned to her, Lilly was able to look at her more critically and safely. She was a bit portly, but not disgustingly so. Even laying on the ground, she seemed fairly short and with that body-type it was almost a given that she would have some sort of extra weight. Her hair was extremely long and slightly wavy, as if she'd taken a shower and braided her hair before falling into bed.

_It's beautiful... _Lilly extended a hand to touch the locks and suddenly the girl's eyes flew open. They were back to the wolf's green eyes and she arched her back, gasping for air as if breathing for the first time. _Maybe this is, I don't know. This might be her first transformation. She might be a very, very young spirit and my brother might be full of shit._

Her arms shot up from her sides, flailing wildly and an unearthly moan issues from her lips, like a creature being awoken from many long years asleep. Lilly didn't hesitate, feeling much more confident about holding her hands down than she had holding those paws. "Easy," she said, using all the force in her upper body to try and keep her down but just when she got a good hold on her arms, her legs began to jerk and jitter, throwing off her balance. "Easy! You're safe, I'm not going to hurt you!"

But in spite of her pleadings, the girl would not heed. She just kept moaning, yelling and thrashing in unearthly ways, rising up to the point where Lilly thought her spine would crack in two before crashing down against the floor with a painful whimper where she would lay for a few seconds, still. Then the throngs of pain or whatever was affecting her so badly began again and she started rolling back and forth clutching her stomach.

The funny thing was- and this just proves Lilly had the gallows' humor to end all gallows humors –Lilly couldn't feel any vestiges of pain radiating from her body. None at all. And that was what frightened her. Whatever was making the girl cry out in agony, it wasn't pain or a wound. That she would've felt. This was internal and, while she shouldn't be suffering any…

_Yet here she is, acting like some poor mortal in an exorcism._

Lilly was starting to panic. "What can I do?!" She demanded, grabbing the girl by her shoulders and shaking her, desperate to get an answer. "Please, I can help! Just tell me!"

The girl rasped something and Lilly leaned in close. "What? Speak up, I can't hear you."

The girl licked her lips, blinking slowly as she tried to re-assimilate into her own faculties. "Pitch...Black." She hissed and Lilly saw the whites of her eyes and they rolled back in pain but she didn't stop speaking. _Poor kid… what this must be like for her, waking up in a strange place like this… _"Take me...to...Pitch Black."

Lilly swore, dropping her none-too-gently on the ground. The girl whimpered but Lilly wasn't paying too much attention anymore. Great. Just frikking _great_. Of all the people the girl would've asked to be taken to, WHY IN THE SEVEN HELLS did it have to be _him?! _She was _this_ close to just calling her brother and letting him sort out this mess. Really. This nightmare was _not_ her problem! Lilly stood up, scowling as she paced back and forth. _I don't even know if I'll be able to get near enough to him to even give him the girl!_ The last time she'd tried, it had resulted in the worst tornado to hit Wyoming ever or since.

Her fists clenched tightly, digging sharp, meticulously manicured nails into her flesh. She ignored it. "Maybe... this time it'll be different. He hasn't been showing up on my radar lately. Maybe he's gotten over all the crap he's been dealing with." Hadn't there been something in the spirit news about the Boogeyman being rehabilitated?

She snorted. Not likely. Pitch Black was the most mentally tortured individual she had ever come across in her years as a spirit. That couldn't just be cured with a snap of her fingers. Then again… she looked back at the girl who was finally finished with her spasms and was lying with her face pressed against the ground, panting heavily. Maybe this kid is part of it.

She knelt at the girl's side and rolled her over, taking care to cover her with the blanket. "Hey, you sure you want me to take you to Pitch Black?" She asked. No response merited a small shake and the girl's eyes opened sleepily. "Hey, I'm talking to you. Are you _sure_ you want to go to him?"

She blinked once, then nodded. "Yessss." Still raspy.

Lilly sighed, picking her up and gently tossing the dead weight of a girl over her shoulder. Strangely, she didn't feel that much heavier than Ammy had. "Alright then kid. It's been fun but I think it's time for you to go home."

XXXXXXXX

"We need to get her home!"

Tooth took a deep breath and began to massage her temples where a massive stress-headache had been forming as her boyfriend continued pacing back and forth like an angry tiger in a cage, which had pretty much been his entire existence for the past two weeks. Ever since he'd woken up and found the note.

"Pitch, dear gods, _calm down!_" She pleaded, flitting back and forth, trying- for both his sanity and hers –to make him stand still for a second. If she had thought for a second knocking him out would do any good, now she was seriously reconsidering it. "You're going to hurt yourself!"

"I _can't_ calm down, Tooth!" He insisted, flying about the room in a whirlwind of agitation. "The second-most important woman in the world to me has been missing for two weeks and I haven't heard a peep from her!"

He couldn't even look her in the eye. Every movement he made, turning his head, blinking, tapping his foot against the ground, were jittery and unthinking. He seethed agitation and there was nothing under the sun that Tooth could do about it. And it was killing her.

"She never goes this long without sending me some sort of message," Pitch told her for about the sixteenth time. "Never, never _ever!_ Well, once. What if she's hurt, Tooth? _What if she's dead?_!" And all at once he was doubling over, clutching his heart against the guilt that was twisting around his heart. "She is dead, Tooth, I just know it! She _has_ to be!"

The first time Pitch had done this her heart nearly broke for him, but as the same pattern continued over and over throughout the days- anger, rage, fear, anguish, agitation, grief and finally collapsing into a guilty stupor, unable to communicate for hours on end. Just staring into blank space, unblinking like a dead statue. –Tooth found herself getting less and less empathetic. And when he pulled the same act again, instead of just letting him like before, Tooth put her hands on her hips and stomped over to him. Enough was enough.

"Get up!" She snapped. "Get up, for pity's sake Pitch. You're not a two-year-old missing your favorite toy. You're the Boogeyman! Now act like it!" This was frankly pathetic, but that word never crossed her lips. She might be angry, but not enough to dredge up that old, hurtful word.

Pitch looked up from between his hands through red, tear-streaked eyes. "Tooth… I-I'm in pain here!"

"Emotional torment, so what?!" She grabbed his arm and hauled him up herself. He stumbled but she had a firm grip on his arm until he was steady. "_Get over it._ It's not like you haven't had your fair share over the years! Now stand up straight and act like a man!"

He did as she asked, but only because he wasn't really sure what else to do, watching her like a deer caught in the headlights.

Once he was up, Tooth folded her arms across her chest, looking him up and down critically. "That's better. You weren't doing either of us any good, wallowing in self-pity like that, which is exactly what you've been doing for the past week! It's pathetic, Pitch! Just because you couldn't find her after a few days you just give up?! Where's the determined man I first met?! Where's the passion, the stubborn pigheadedness that I fell in love with?! _Where is it_ Pitch?!"

She took a step forward, eyes blazing and he took a fearful step backwards. _Bloody hell, I never knew Tooth could be so terrifying!_

"T-tooth I…" He almost cursed as his tongue stumbled over the words. Dammit, he'd been doing it again! After a few thousand years you'd think he would know better, or at least be able to catch himself when it happened but no. He was still the same selfish drama-queen he'd always been apparently.

He'd been so wrapped up in his own misery that he hadn't noticed the tell-tale signs of exhaustion playing around her face. The crows' feet beneath her eyes, the constant yawning, even her ruffled feathers from the stress. But he could see her now, staring back at her. Behind the fire burning in those angry, defiant eyes he could also see the pity and sadness on his part, which made him feel even guiltier.

"Oh, I'm so sorry love." He said, crossing the space between them and embracing her. "I'm sorry, I know this is just as hard for you as it is for me." _And I'm an asshole for totally ignoring you. _"You have no idea how much I appreciate you and I'm sorry that I was such an inconsiderate prick."

Tooth watched him for a moment, the fire flickering uncertainly before her expression returned to her happy, normal self. She let out a relieved sigh, practically falling into his warm embrace. At least she'd gotten him to stop that _pacing_. "Thank you," She murmured, resting her face against his chest. "I know this is hard for you Pitch, but you've got to remember, we're part of a team. Family. I love you but you've _got_ to stop throwing yourself a pity-party about this because it's not going to help any of us."

"I know I'm just…" He trailed a hand down her back, smoothing down her feathers. "I'm scared, Tooth. Terrified, actually. More so than I've ever been about anything in my life. The Fearlings were a mild discomfort compared to how much the idea of never seeing Meggie again scares me."

Tooth nodded. "I know my shadow, I know you're scared. I am too, but you've taught me that I can't just let the fear beat you." She took him by the pointed chin and forced him to look her in the eyes. "We _will_ find her," she promised. "One way or another, we will find her. There must be something we haven't tried to find her, there's _always_ something!"

Pitch sighed, resting his forehead against hers. The stress-headache he'd been dealing with for about two weeks now was soothed by the coolness of her brow. "Tooth, I've torn across the world searching for her. I've ran through almost every single shadow on the face of the planet, looking for her. Her fear isn't anywhere to be found and we haven't heard anything from your fairies yet. What else can we do?!"

There was another potential solution, but he wasn't going to like it. "We could…ask the other Guardians," she suggested gently. "I'm sure North could pin-point her in a snap! And a snowglobe is just a smash away!"

A grimace twisted Pitch's normally elegant features. "No, Tooth. We've already talked about this. I can't let them know I screwed up this badly. _I can't,_ Tooth!" He grabbed her hands, praying that she would understand. "Not after everything that's happened! They wouldn't let me go near a child if they found out I'd lost one!"

Tooth pulled away, disgusted. "What's more important to you?! Your pride, or her life?!"

"Tooth they might not even know where she is!"

"WE don't know where she is! At least with them there is that slim chance of maybe! She could be on the moon for all we know!"

Pitch's head snapped up and she saw, to her horror, that his eyes were gleaming with the old fiery determination.

_Shit._ "Pitch wait I didn't mean-" but it was no use. He was already rushing towards the exit. She flew in front of him to block his path but he caught her deftly by the shoulders, gently swinging her around and bestowing a light kiss on her forehead.

"You're a genius love, I'll be right back!" One short, light embrace and he was gone, swallowed up by the darkness. Tooth sighed, sinking into her armchair, afraid she might've just started the next spirit world war. _Won't Meggie be pleased about that._

He bolted down the corridor, massive strides lending to his speed as he tore through the shadows. His heart beat fast and irregular, hammering against his chest but Pitch ignored it. _She's brilliant! _He thought, hurtling down through the shadows, excitement as hope building as the entrance to the caves loomed closer.

_She's utterly brilliant! Why didn't I think of this before?! He's got to have something to do with this. It's Lunar, of course he does. _A flash of red skittered past him, the fresh scent of pine wafting in on the breeze from above. He ignored it all.

"I'm coming for you Meggie, wherever you are, _I'll find you_."

He took a few shortcuts through the shiny black rock-face and came out about three yards from the actual entrance. "LUNAR!" He glared up at the sky where, of course, the moon was hanging like a lifeless wheel of cheese, bobbing in a sea of stars. "LUNAR, GET YOUR SILVER ASS DOWN HERE! I WANT MY CHILD BACK AND I WANT HER BACK _**NOW!"**_

The earth itself trembled. But the moon didn't respond.

Pitch waited, shoulders still heaving up and down form the exertion of running so far, so fast. "DO NOT IGNORE ME OLD MAN!" He snarled, seconds away from stealing a globe and teleporting up there himself and wringing Lunar's fat neck until he got Meggie back. "KOZMOTIS, NIGHTLIGHT, SOMEONE ANSWER ME!"

Despite previously not having breath, he found these days it took great toll to keep yelling without taking time-out to breathe. In, out. He told himself. In, out. Breath. Yelling never got anybody anything except attention, and I'm sure I've got that already.

"Look," he told the sky, adopting a more complacent tone that would feed into Lunar's ego, should he be listening. "I don't care how you do it, I don't care why you took her but I SWEAR to AETHER if I don't get her back I will plunge this world so far back into the dark ages you won't know what HIT YOU!" OK, maybe not so complacent.

No one but the wind answered him. A sudden gust of wind tearing across the flat landscape, sending leaves flying up in a column of dust and debris, causing Pitch to jump slightly as the hem of his robe rippled violently. "What the hell…" Branches bent in the breeze, the trees of the forest which protected his home moaning as another gust picked up the slack. "Lunar, is that you?" He looked back at the moon. The unseen fingers of the wind had coerced the clouds into covering any trace of brightness that leaked down from the Lunar Palace.

Something bright flashed against the darkening sky, like a star itself had been given life and form.

"NIGHTLIGHT!" Pitch yelled, hoping against hope that the elder Lunanoff brother might finally have some answers for him. "Nightlight, is that you?"

But it was not Nightlight who descended from the sky, his head cocked to the side with that smile that reminded Pitch so unsettlingly of Jack's, swinging his staff. It wasn't even a human, judging by the exquisite black and mottled white wings extending from behind its' back. Pitch squinted at the figure. It was obvious from the outline that it was a woman, an animal-hybrid perhaps? Or an elemental? Possibly, but he doubted it. Something on her right side seemed awkward, cumbersome. He could tell as she floated down, leaning slightly on that side.

Once she reached the ground, her wings folded against her back. "Are you Pitch Black?" She called across the empty expanse of grass.

Pitch nodded, starting to walk towards her. He could detect a slight amount of fear coming from her general direction but he didn't pry into it. It was probably just fear of him. "Yes, I am. Who are-"

"Don't come any closer!" She yelled, backing up. The slight trickle of fear he had been detecting spiked, confirming it was hers.

He stopped, raising his hands. "Alright, alright. Just tell me who you are and what you want."

The girl tossed her brown curls, heaving something up and over her shoulder. "Is this yours?" She dropped it on the ground and Pitch heard a dull thunk as whatever it was hit the ground.

When she started backing up, Pitch took it as the signal for him to move in and see just what she'd brought him. _What the hell is going on here?_ He wondered, crossing the expanse between them. _Is she an emissary from Lunar?_ She certainly looked like the type, all ethereal angelic wings and holier-than-thou attitude. But no…she kept backing up higher and higher into the sky as he progressed forward, using those massive wings of hers to gently float backwards, regarding him with a stone-cold expression that he wasn't sure if he deserved or not.

It took until he was actually kneeling on the ground, the angel-girl hovering about fifteen feet above him, watching carefully, before he realized just who and what she had dropped on the ground. He saw the glint of white cloth and rolled it over, expecting to see some item of power or something that might help him find Meggie, and was as such not at all prepared to find not a means of tracking Meggie down, but Meggie herself lying there.

"Meggie! Oh my darkness Meggie, you're back! Are you alright? Meggie why won't you answer? Speak to me!" He shook her to no avail. She was either unconscious or… No. He ordered, shutting those thoughts down. No, she's not dead! "If you've done anything to hurt her," he warned the angel. "I will-"

"Relax Boogeyman," she interrupted deftly, waving a black-nailed hand. Spider-web lace peeked out from the cuff of a leather jacket sleeve, giving off a very gothic appearance. Not to mention her glittering dark eyes. "I didn't hurt a purple hair on your wolfie's _pwecious wittle head._"

_Wolfie?_ He wondered. The mockery in her tone was clear as crystal, but it wasn't sarcastic. Not from what he could tell. She appeared to be telling the truth, from the initial once-over he had given Meggie.

Then she followed it up with folding her arms proudly over her leather-covered chest. "In fact, I saved her life."

"You-"

"Save it." She said shortly. "Just keep her away from Pyreans and out of Wales for a while. Next time I might not be there to save her ass. Oh, and you're welcome." She added, bowing sarcastically before turning and shooting off into the sky without another word.

Pitch didn't know what to think at this point. _She just… shows up out of __**nowhere**__ with Meggie, and claims to save her and then just __**leaves**__ her here with me? _Not that he cared, as long as she was here and safe. "Speaking of safe, I'd better take her inside before she gets frostbite or something worse." He picked her up as tenderly as he could, realizing only when he stood up that the white cloth she was wrapped in was the only thing she had on. That was incentive along to hurry her back inside where he and Tooth could take care of her. If she was even alive.

She was alive, of course.

"It takes more than…whatever happened to her…to kill this one." Tooth assured him, taking Meggie from his arms upon hearing what had happened. She was a bit lighter than the fairy remembered. Probably from malnourishment or the like. "Don't worry, I'll take care of her. You can come in once I'm done and if she's awake, I'm sure she'll want to talk to you."

Pitch nodded and, against his better judgement, let Tooth take Meggie back into one of the bedroom to fix her up.

As the fairy laid her down on the bed, Tooth noticed Meggie didn't have a single obvious wound on her body. A lot of scars- more than she should have, certainly. Some patches of skin where burns had obviously occurred and healed fully, but apart from that she was totally clean and healthy. She just wouldn't wake up.

Tooth tried everything. Smelling salts, shaking, calling her name, water, nothing worked. It was obvious the girl was still alive from the breathing, making her chest rise and fall, but apart from that she gave no indication of life whatsoever. "She's probably just exhausted," Tooth murmured to herself, laying a warm blanket over her. "Poor thing." _I'll bet she's been through a lot…_

When she felt sure Meggie was alright and sleeping soundly, Tooth left the room to talk with Pitch.

"I can't find any injuries," she admitted. "None that haven't healed anyway. There's a few burns and I've found lots of scars, but apart from that no she seems to be in perfect health."

He had to admit, it wasn't surprising. "She's a strong spirit, Tooth. Very strong. I'm not surprised she isn't hurt. She probably got knocked unconscious and her powers went on autopilot, like Jacks sometimes do. They healed her for her while she was asleep. Or hell, it might've been that angel. We don't know!" He shrugged.

"Did you recognize the angel?"

"No. Couldn't get a good look at her face, but I know she's a spirit of some sort. I could feel the power flowing through her, as well as a lot of fear. But she didn't give me a name. She just said to keep Meggie away from Pyreans and out of Wales for a while."

Tooth leaped up. "SHE WENT TO WALES?!" Now, normally Tooth did not screech, but she'd been privied to the knowledge of what had happened the last time Meggie had tried to cross the Atlantic. That was reason enough.

And suddenly their roles were reversed. It was Tooth raging and Pitch trying to calm her down. "Tooth, please, it's not that big a deal! At least she's safe," he offered meekly when she turned around, glaring.

"Yes Pitch I'm _glad she's safe_," Her nostrils were flaring. Not a good sign. Her wings were moving in such a blur that it looked like a rainbow whirlwind was keeping her aloft. "But that doesn't change the fact that she _WENT_ _across the_ _OCEAN_, without telling either of us! WHAT WAS SHE THINKING?!"

"She was probably sick of being treated like a paper doll and wanted to get out for a while!"

"Then why didn't she just _ask_ or let us know?!"

Pitch scoffed. "Oh _come on_, you've dealt with teenagers before! Jack never lets any of us know where he's going!" It was just what happened. It was what teenagers did.

"Jack doesn't have incredibly volatile powers that could leave him stuck in one form unable to move from pain!" She shot back, fists clenched. "There's no excuse for this Pitch, there's simply no excuse! I can't believe _you're_ not more angry about this!" That last bit was followed by a frown as she turned to look at him. "You'd normally be having a fit if she'd tried something like this and you caught her!"

He could only shrug in response. In truth, he was pretty mad about that but now that she was here, back home and safe, the anger had all but vanished into thin air. "Weren't you the one who just told me that anger doesn't solve problems?" He inquired politely, loving the expression of annoyance that crossed her pretty features.

"Oh shut up." But that did seem to calm her down a bit. He watched her fluttering around for a while, buzzing back and forth across the room as she tried to collect herself. "You're right," Tooth admitted, spinning around to face him. She was looking much better than before. The frown-lines on her creamy white forehead were gone, and the crow's feet too. "I'm sorry."

They hugged and he whispered, "There's no need to apologize. We both can get angry sometimes, we've seen that. As long as the other is willing to step up and help, I think we'll both be fine."

"What about Meggie?"

Pitch cast a glance back towards the room. _Please let her wake up soon…_ "She's a strong spirit," he repeated. "I think she'll be fine."

It took nearly another week but, by the time April melded into May and the frost finally began to lift off the ground, Meggie was sitting up in bed and talking.

Of course, the first thing Pitch and Tooth did, as concerned parents, was ask her what she remembered about the two weeks she'd been gone. Her answers were a little less than satisfactory.

"I was gone HOW LONG?!" She yelped, sitting bolt-upright and almost knocking over the bowl of soup Tooth had brought.

"Two weeks." Pitch repeated, holding out an arm between Tooth and the upset Changeling. "And please be careful dear, Tooth took a lot of time making that for you."

Meggie glanced as the drops of spilled soup on the blanket and flushed. "M'sorry Tooth," she murmured, running a hand through her tangled hair. "I just…I can't believe it! Two whole weeks, are you sure?"

"I counted every day," her adoptive father assured her. "The first week we were searching the entire planet for you but came up with nothing." Pitch didn't mean it to sound judgmental but, from the bright pink creeping into her cheeks beneath the curtain of hair that she took it that way. "Meggie, we're not mad at you. I swear to darkness we're not," he added when both her eyebrows jumped to her hairline. "We _were_ scared, and angry at first, but now all that matters is you're safe and well."

Safe, maybe, but she was certainly not well. True as day she couldn't remember a single damn thing about what had happened during those past two weeks. "The last thing I remember was the fire," Meggie admitted when Pitch probed her on the matter.

"The fire?"

"The fire the Pyreans set. They don't burn that hot, by the way." She told him, grinning in spite of the grim circumstances under which she'd learned the information. "They had to burn white-hot to even leave a mark on my skin."

"You- they-" Pitch was livid. The cloth of her blankets crinkled beneath his clenched fist and Tooth noticed he was shaking. "You _let_ a Pyrean burn you?!"

Meggie flinched at the sharpness of his voice and Pitch instantly felt guilty, but she didn't back down. "I didn't _let them_," she snapped, folding her arms defiantly over her chest and glaring. "They beat me bloody and thought it would be fun for sport. It was either me or an innocent Dryad, and I wasn't about to let that happen! That would make me worse than them and if you want me to be that then tough beans!"

_Well, it seems her ordeal hasn't beaten any of the fire out of her._ Tooth thought, smiling as she watched them stare-off for a few awkward moments before coughing and attempting to break the tense silence. "Ahem. Meggie?" She watched the violet-haired teen give Pitch one last hard look before turning to face her. "I, for one, think you did a very admirable thing. Very noble, and very selfless. Well done. That kind of courage isn't found easily you know."

Meggie rolled her eyes. "Oh please, I didn't save the country from invasion from the ferret-people or solve world-hunger. I just saved one measly Dryad and got two weeks erased from my mind in return. Some prize for being courageous." She hunkered down among her blankets again, letting her head rest against the pillow in a huff. "Sometimes I wonder what's the point of being good."

Pitch couldn't help it. He cackled, so loudly in fact that both Tooth and Meggie jumped. And he kept cackling, even though her question was a legitimate one. It was just so ironic, so deliciously obvious. And now an inexperienced, sarcastic twit of a spirit was voicing the very thing he had poured over mentally for years, using that very question as a stalemate to keep him from making a decision.

He noticed they were both giving him weird looks and he stopped cackling. "Ahem." He cleared his throat. "My apologies Meggie. It's just…there really is no point."

"Pitch!" Tooth swatted his arm, her eyes wide and slightly anxious as well as angry. "What the hell?!"

"Well, there isn't! Not for her, anyway. She hasn't been around long enough to be able to make the decision of using her powers for good or evil. And it is a decision, Tooth. Don't even bother telling her it isn't." He warned. "More importantly, she doesn't have a reason to choose good or evil yet, so why not let her consider all the possibilities?"

Her glare far-surpassed the realm of terrifying and straight into murderous but she truly did not have an answer. So she settled for burning a shouldering metaphoric crater in his face.

Pitch winked before turning back to Meggie. "I agree, this isn't quite the time to have that conversation, though I promise we will eventually. I'm just letting you know that sometimes the toll of being good is just a little too high and that can drive you to do bad things. But unless your heart's truly in it," here he placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "I don't recommend it. It's a pretty pathetic existence, even if you do enjoy it."

He really did expect her to look at him like he was crazy, like Tooth had, but instead she simply smiled. "Thanks Pitch. I appreciate that." They shared a warm hug while Tooth looked on in utter disbelief and when he pulled away she asked tentatively, "Now…can I lay down for a while? I want to think and write for a bit."

"Of course dear. Come on Tooth, let's leave her alone for a bit." He took Tooth's arm and led her out the door before turning back once to let her know if she needed anything, to call for him. "Anything, alright? You've been through a massive trial. Now's _not_ the time to be prideful."

She nodded vaguely, already lost in the qualms of her own thoughts. He smiled and went to gently shut the door. "Hey Pitch?"

Pitch re-opened the door, sticking his head back into the room curiously. "Yes?"

"What…what did she look like?"

"The girl who rescued you?" He asked, just to clarify. With this child, you never knew what rail her train of thoughts would jump to. Meggie nodded. "Well, she had brown curly hair, wore a lot of black leather, and had a pair of angel wings."

"Were they white?"

"Ish. More like a mottled grey and black."

"Oh. OK. Thanks." She turned over and laid down, her voice muffled amongst the blankets. "Can you shut the door behind you please?"

Pitch nodded. "Of course. Sleep well, Meggie." He wasn't quite sure, but she might've mumbled something under her breath in response. No doubt something sarcastic and cutting. He smiled as the door shut silently.

_She's back. My girl is back, safe and sound._

Pitch practically skipped down the hall to his bedroom where Tooth was waiting.


	25. Let's Do a Recap

**Please please PLEASE don't hate me! I know I promised a world of updates and I swear I will try to continue updating but this summer has just been absolute HELL for me. Working, family stuff, working on my novels which I'm so frikking excited to announce is almost HALFWAY done! Yay me! I know you guys wanted more Lilly and I do too but all things must come in due course. **

**I'll try to get more up soon, and hopefully we'll get to see our familiar curly-haired angel again! But, for long, toodles and thanks for all the fish.**

* * *

"I should get hurt like this more often," I told Tooth as she handed me another bowl of soup daintily, careful not to spill all over my black covers. "Now that you're here I've got people to pamper me night and day!"

The fairy who was sitting on the bed beside me swatted me on the arm. "I knew it," she accused, snatching the soup back, ignoring my cry of protest. "You are totally milking this for all it's worth, aren't you?"

"Hey!"

"_Aren't you?_"

I sighed, throwing myself back onto the floofy pillows in a dramatic huff. "Well _duh_." I snarked at her, in my favorite snarky voice and added in a few good gestures for emphasis. "What kind of teenager would I be if I let perfectly good servants go to waste?"

"_S-servants?_"

Tooth's eyebrows were hovering somewhere around her hairline and, dramatic little shite that I am, I had to keep going. "Would you prefer slaves?" I asked innocently, reaching for the soup again. She let me have it, rolling her eyes in disgust.

"You've been spending too much time around Pitch." Tooth told me decidedly, turning away to straighten my blankets and pick up some books. "Servants. _Honestly_."

"Mmm, wha else r'parents suppose'ta be?" I mumbled through a mouthful of soup. Bacon potato. One of many she'd made over the week I'd been 'bed-ridden' and the best thus far for sure.

The bacon was stewed in milk and potatoes, simmered for hours and seasoned with pepper and some super secret Indian spice blend that most likely would've killed a normal human, but it was good. I shoveled spoonful after spoonful, elated by the taste of good food and desperate to fix the one bad symptom of my memory-lapse, besides the lapse itself: my constant feeling of hunger.

"Parents are just slaves for their children until they grow old enough to have children of their own." The hot liquid poured down my throat, bringing a real smile back to my lips and I handed her the now empty bowl, smirking as she looked aghast at its emptiness. "Good stuff by the way."

Tooth's gaze flicked back and forth between my face and the void that inhabited the bowl. "Did you even _taste_ it?!"

"Of course I did." I could feel a small smidgen of food lurking in the corner of my mouth and wiped it away with the back of my hand before continuing. "And it was delicious. Could I possibly get another?" Her response was to chuck a discarded pillow at my head. "Alright alright fine," I grumbled, pushing the covers back. "My legs are going numb anyway."

"You really should let Pitch know you're alright," my adoptive mother chastised, watching me as I moved to the wider section of the room to stretch out the limbs that had been stuck in the same position practically all week. "He worries so much for you."

I almost fell over trying to stand on one foot, my attention split between her speaking and trying to maintain balance. "Yeah, I guess." Was my vague reply. The truth was, Pitch pretty much knew I was physically alright. Sure, I couldn't really stand upright for long periods of time and I still had that empty pit in my stomach that I couldn't seem to fill no matter how much I stuffed myself, but that was to be expected after a week lying flat on my back. He was more worried about my mental state- which isn't very good on a good day.

We'd already established I couldn't remember much of those missing two weeks where apparently I'd changed into a wolf and been the house pet/guard dog/charity case for some winged girl that sounded like a dark angel. For once I was being honest with Pitch. I could remember literally almost nothing about the experience. Vague flashes of dark and light, shadows, sun and green grass. Some ticking sounds. But that was all. I couldn't even summon up my rescuer's face and that pissed me off more than I can say, but I got over it swiftly.

Wherever I'd been, I knew I'd been well-cared for. Tooth looked me over twice and found no obvious wounds, and those she did find were healed. Skillfully. There were bandage marks and everything. It relieved me- to an extent. If I'd been well cared for, it meant whoever had been caring for me had been kind. I assume it had been the winged girl, but I can't prove it. Because I don't remember.

Pitch won't let me go out and find her, yet. I think once I stop the plaintive patient act, and show him I'm capable of moving around on my own and existing outside of that insufferable china-doll syndrome, he might be more inclined. And I really do want to find her. My dreams don't tell me anything- which is a relief in and of itself. Just mindless nonsense. Shadows and fragments of annoying mismatched memories that might not be mine. But they might be. I don't know.

"Is there anything else you need dear?" Tooth asked, shaking me out of my own backwards thoughts. I looked up into her pale, warm face and shook my head.

"No. Not unless you can convince Pitch to let me out early." And I knew there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of that happening.

"No, I'm sorry dear." Tooth shook her head and she did sound truly regretful. "But you know Pitch. He's not going to let you out of that bed until he's absolutely sure you're alright and no amount of my asking him is going to change that."

I felt the cold wall press against my back, sighing contentedly at the relief. "Yeah, kinda saw that coming. He's been pretty much set in his ways since I started getting into trouble. Since I got here, really." A sudden thought struck me. "Hey, do you think him getting laid might make him ease up on me a little?"

Tooth erupted in a small choking fit and I waited patiently while she cleared her throat enough to speak. When she looked up, her face was pleasingly flushed. "What...on earth..." She began, seeming to be exceedingly puzzled at my suggestion. Then another cough caused her to break off her sentence. "Meggie," she tried again. "What on earth makes you think Pitch..."

"Getting laid." I prompted, watching with glee as her face grew redder. _Good gods, if she gets even redder she's going to pass out._

Tooth cleared her throat again, clearly uncomfortable with the situation but, kudos to her, she forged on resolutely anyway. "Yes, that. What on earth makes you think that will make Pitch be less over-protective of you?"

I rolled my shoulders. "Hey, you never know. Getting laid is pretty therapeutic. Not that I know," I added hastily as Tooth's eyebrows rose even further. She settled back into her seat, looking relieved. That irked me and I added under my breath convulsively, "_Yet_."

From that point on Tooth seemed to have had enough of my shenanigans. She pinched the bridge of her nose, rolled her amethyst eyes and mumbled something about 'Insane teenagers'. But when she brought her hand away, there was a smile playing around her lips. "You're such a character Meggie," the fairy murmured, fondly reaching forward and ruffling my hair. "I think that, once you're able to meet them, you'll fit in just fine with the rest of our family."

I leaned in to her touch, my body responding almost automatically by growing warm and the tiny hairs on my arms tingling. "Thanks Tooth," I murmured, my eyes slipping shut as she embraced me in that loving, non-judgmental way only a mother can manage while still making me feel like I was hugging a best friend. "I hope so too."

Patting my back to signal the end of the hug, Tooth pulled away and kissed my forehead. "I love you sweetheart. But I need to get back to the Palace. Do you think you can manage alone here for a few hours until Pitch gets back?"

I tried to look insulted but the tingly sensations had me feeling just a bit too good to make that kind of facial expression. So I settled for nodding resignedly. "Yeah Tooth, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" She insisted and the wrinkles on her brow. "If you don't feel up to it I can get some of the girls to stay with you. Or the Nightmares-"

"Tooth," I interrupted and now I was struggling not to smirk. Who was being over-protective now eh? "I'll be fine. You go on back to the Palace. Tell Baby Tooth I said hi."

She watched me carefully for a few moments, seemingly trying to either look into my soul- of which I'm 90% sure I don't have, or having something in her eye that she was trying to blink out. Either way, I waited patiently and after several long seconds she broke eye contact and nodded. "Alright," Tooth relented. "Alright, I'm going. But you need to promise you won't go out and do something stupid, OK?"

I put on my best innocent expression, complete with big eyes and a set of pouty lips that would make a playboy cover jealous. "Stupid, _me?_ Perish the thought."

Tooth didn't look too reassured and I let the joke-face drop.

"Really Tooth, I'll be fine." I told her seriously and found that the words escaping my lips invoked emotions that were equal parts elation and concern. I was glad that she was seriously thinking about my safety, as it showed that even if I hadn't trusted her before I sure could now. But I was also concerned that apparently she too thought I was incapable of being left alone or taking care of myself. "I'll just sit here and relax for a bit, maybe read, maybe write some. Pitch'll be home before I know it." This little attempt at convincing her was followed up with a placid smile and, against all odds, she seemed to believe it.

Her body-language relaxed, the tension holding her shoulders up fell away and her lips parted in a smile that stretched almost all the way to the corners of her eyes and revealed gleaming white chompers. "Good girl. It really should only be a few hours. Dawn's about four or five hours away and he's usually home by then." She stood up, stretched and headed for the door. When she reached it, of course the mother in her required a few parting words. "If you need anything don't hesitate to send one of the Nightmares to the Palace. I'm never too busy for you."

She had no idea how much my heart swelled when I heard those words. But, being the selfish little twit I am I chose to just keep it all bottled up inside. It wouldn't do to have me fall to pieces, especially when the general consensus was that I couldn't control myself emotionally anyway. So I held back the tears, the words and the heart-wrenching thank-yous that were just begging to spill out. I simply gave her a small smile in return, nodded, and said, "I appreciate that Tooth."

The Tooth fairy beamed. "And I appreciate you sweetie. You rest easy now."

I nodded in affirmation and she was gone in a flicker of rainbow and humming, leaving me to my own devices.

There was a small, round mirror hanging on the wall just above the dresser on the right side of the room and, spontaneously, I turned and smiled at it. "Well, that went well. Don't you think?"

I was so starved of other company I half-expected the reflection to wink and talk back to me. It didn't, of course. That would've been weird. Chuckling, I laid back down and stared up at the ceiling. My hands laced together, resting on my stomach and for the first time since I regained consciousness, I felt like I was able to take a step back and breathe.

Oddly enough, I had been telling Tooth the truth when I told her I hadn't wanted to leave my room. So much had been happening in the past few weeks that I hadn't even had time to really take it all in. The pampering was nice and all, and I absolutely loved all the sleep I was able to get! And yet... now that I was alone with my thoughts and nothing else to keep my occupied, it occurred to me just how scary my whole ordeal had been. Even if I couldn't remember it.

"_Especially_ since I can't remember it," I corrected myself. Yeah, that's really going to screw with me for a while. "On the one hand, I know she treated me well. I just don't remember why. Or who she is, and it's really pissing me off." Not as much as my own stupidity, though.

I rolled over, hiding my face in my pillow as the memories of my arrogance re-surfaced. Ugh. The banter with the Pyreans, losing control, my utter disregard. It made me sick.

_Well, it is fair turn kiddo. _The little voice told me, piping up yet again. _Maybe you're finally starting to learn that there are consequences of your actions, and not just ones that Pitch gives you like staying in your room. You could've died out there._

"Don't remind me." I grumbled, pushing my face even deeper into the plush. "I already feel guilty enough about it, no need to rub it in Jiminy."

_Don't call me that. I'm not your conscience, I'm the sane part of you that tries-_

"And usually fails,"

_-to keep you safe. And it's not the easiest of jobs, so I think a little appreciation for me might be in order, don't you?_

I would've rolled my eyes, but they were pressed too firmly into the pattern of the pillow. Firm enough to leave an imprint on my eyeballs, actually. So I settled for a low, guttural growl. "Yeah yeah, thank you. I don't remember much past picking a fight with the Pyreans, so for all I know you could've goaded me into it."

It didn't even dignify the accusation with a response.

Rolling back onto my side, I stared with mild disinterest at the wall again while my mind raced. Physically, I was just too exhausted from doing nothing to affect any kind of movement. Everything else in me was alive with the spark of curiosity and, after mulling them over I asked, "I wonder if Pitch would let me go find her."

The answer was no, of course. I didn't even have to think on that. At least, it would be for a while. Until I proved to him that I could be responsible and take care of myself. The next question that came to mind was a bit more perplexing.

"I mean, I've only been gone for a few weeks. Margaret knows that I like to disappear for long periods of time. She doesn't really _like_ it, but that's just how it is." So going two whole weeks without contact probably hadn't concerned her. Probably. Jamie on the other hand... "Ooh, right. _Jamie_. Yeah, he's not used to my disappearing acts. Shit. I'd better go let him know I'm OK." I was halfway off my bed before I remembered my promise to Tooth and it took all I had not to face-palm. "_Damn_. See," I told the little voice. "_This_ is what I get for promising to do good stuff! And it's exactly why I don't."

_You have... an extremely twisted version of logic, child._

"Meh. I'm a practically immortal teen. You get what you get." I was more concerned about the kid thinking I'd abandoned him. If Jamie, or any of the others for that matter, thought I was gonna be a no-show, they might lose their belief in other spirits. And what with Jamie's belief already teetering on the edge, I couldn't afford to have any of the others following in his footsteps. I tried to think of solutions, I really did! But I kept coming back to the same problem.

Tooth trusted me. And, while I was pretty flexible where morality was concerned, she was the only one I had met thus far whom I knew I would never be able to look in the eyes again if I lied to her. Pitch, him I was OK lying to, but not Tooth. She was just... too Tooth-y.

My head was starting to hurt. Every moment I agonized over this I was pretty sure was stressing a year off my immortality. Resting my forehead against the pleasantly cool rockface provided only temporary relief. "Ugh, if only there was a way for me to stay here _and_ go talk to Jamie! A method that fulfills both my promise to Tooth and my moral obligation to Jamie! Agh, think Megs, think! Use that brain you stole from the lab!"

_Did you just..._

"Yeah. Sorry. I guess I'm even more mentally messed-up than I thought."

_**All the best people are, shadowcat.**_

As if the voice speaking to me from the pool of darkness cast by the candle resting on my bedside wasn't startling enough, the owner of the voice suddenly decided to erupt out of the floor, scaring the crap out of me in the process. I scrambled backward automatically and my heart rate sped up. But when my mind registered who the owner was, I was able to relax a bit.

"Hey there Pony-girl." She let me rest my face against her neck, which was as close to a hug as we could get. "What brings you to these parts?"

Onyx pulled her head back just enough to give me the deadest of deadpans. _**I live here, remember?**_

I took a swipe at her haunch but she side-stepped gracefully. "I mean _besides that_ you dozy horse. I haven't seen you for weeks! Why're you just showing up now?"

The obsidian mare tossed her head, clearly miffed with my apparent stupidity. _**I'm choosing to ignore the obvious answer, because I know you're just trying to bait me.**_ She began, glaring down her nose at me. _**But, contrary to your belief, all I do around here is not just skulk in the caves and provide sarcastic comments. I was actually working the past month.**_

She seemed a little tense on the topic and, momentarily at least, I forgot about my own woes. "What's wrong Onyx? Is Pitch losing believers?"

_**Oh no, no pet, nothing like that. **_She assured me. _**It's just that we're getting a lot more nightmares per night than I'm used to handling. I've had to re-organize the scheduling systems between the different battalions, make sure we don't have too many mares out at once, regulate their fear intake and, now that Pitch is devoting most of his time to you, I'm stuck with the feeding scheduled and sleep rounds too!**_

Each complaint issuing from her non-moving lips caused me to wince and by the time she finally finished her mini-rant, I was practically curled up into a meek, guilty little ball. "Is it that bad?"

Onyx sighed and the exhale of air caused her lips to flap comically. _**It's nothing I can't handle shadowcat, **_she told me, bringing her huge head forward and resting its ridge against my brow. This was Onyx's favorite way of telling me she cared about me. _**And it's not your fault, OK? You are not singularly responsible for every catastrophe that befalls this planet.**_

"So it is a catastrophe!"

Onyx nipped my hairline chidingly. _**Don't be a twerp. If it was a catastrophe, I assure you I'd be able to handle it. **_Then the seriousness returned to her tone. _**I'm more worried about you, kiddo. It's no picnic to lose two weeks of your memory.**_

"So...you heard about that then?" Bugger. I was hoping to avoid that avenue of conversation entirely but that, it seemed, was not in the cards.

_**Of course I heard. I helped Pitch bring you back here to your room. **_She looked me up and down thoughtfully. I could see the gears turning in her head, gauging my mood, temperament, body-language and whatever else she could use to see if I was alright before she formulated her next question. _**How're you holding up?**_

_Finally! _I grinned and it was all I had not to shout hallelujah! _An open-ended question I can work with! _"Honestly?"

_**Honestly**_.

I shrugged. "I've been better, but I've also been worse. My body's healing fine from...whatever happened to me before I lost that two weeks." Thinking of the scars I'd received as a parting gift from my mysterious two weeks made me want to check a mirror, to see if that massive hand-shaped burn mark on my cheek was still there.

I must've actually raised my hand to my face without realizing it because Onyx leaned closer and nuzzled my cheek. _**The outside scars might've healed pet, **_she told me quietly, running her cold nose over my skin. A shiver crawled up my back and rested cold, clammy tendrils on the very tips of my shoulder blades, forcing me to keep them level. _**But you never know when the rest is healed if you can't recall ever being hurt.**_

The situation was getting just a bit too serious for my liking, so a joke automatically came to my rescue. "So you're a philosopher as well as a pack-mule?" I quipped and rolled to the side to dodge another nip.

_**It is inadvisable to sass your salvation. **_Onyx told me seriously. _**Especially since you're resorted to asking yourself for advice.**_

I wanted to tell her that I was, in fact, talking to an actual person residing inside my head- or so my theory was leading me to believe. Then I thought, _nah. Too much explanation._

_**Luckily for you, I might have a solution to your problem.**_

My heart leaped. "Really? What is it? Some magical teleportation thingamabob that can get me back and forth, to Jamie's house and right back here in seconds?"

_**No.**_

"Oh, oh, is it a doohicky? Some time-stop hoojimawhatzit that halts the flow of time so that they don't even know I'm gone? Is it a Golem that will take my place for a few hours?"

_**No and no. Honestly child, **_Onyx glared down her nose at me. _**You're a bloody Changeling! One of the strongest spirit in the realm, and the adoptive daughter of the Boogeyman! You have magical powers beyond comprehension that can bend reality and put the world as your fingertips!**_

"So..." I ventured uncertainly. "You're telling me to use my magic?"

Onyx looked so utterly done at this point that, looking back on it, I'm pretty impressed she didn't walk out right then and there. She tossed her head, stomped her hoof and grumbled- more to herself than anything, _**You cannot **__possibly__** be this thick!**_

"I _can_ possibly be this thick." I countered. "Spell it out, my little nightmare. I'm not in the mood for guessing games. Is there a way for me to duplicate myself, leaving another me behind in my place?" _Wait, is that an oxymoron?_

_**You could do that,**_ Onyx admitted. _**Of course it would take an awful lot of time and energy just to master the power of form-making. You could make an astral projection of yourself, but those can't speak. Not to mention they take plenty of concentration and practice.**_

"How much concentration and practice?"

_**More than you can afford dear, trust me.**_

_Oh for the love of-!_ I threw up my hands in disgust, quite literally _done_ with this beating-around-the-bushery. "Then what do _you_ suggest I do, oh great and powerful pony? I bow to your _superior intelligence._" Great sarcasm followed this line and I decided to top the notch by giving a greatly exaggerated bow that almost made me topple over.

_**Are you finished?**_

I coughed, straightening up with as much dignity as I could. "Yes. Yes I am."

_**Good. Now, as I was saying, you could try those methods. You wouldn't be able to succeed in time though. Not without paying a heavy price, at least. And I don't think your body can handle that kind of debt.**_

"What kind of debt?" I asked, purely out of curiosity.

Onyx looked me dead in the eyes while she answered. _**I'm sure Pitch has told you, and if he hasn't I'm going to kick him where the sun doesn't shine for even letting you out of the caves without that knowledge, **_here she cast a smouldering look towards the door. _**That, should you use too much of your magic at one time, you have a very strong chance of spontaneously combustion.**_

"Spontaneous WHAT?!"

_**I'll take that as a no. Well, there's one thing I can put on my agenda that will make me happy. **_Onyx said, snorting happily.

"Never mind that!" I snapped. "Just tell me what I can do that _isn't_ going to make me spontaneously combust! We're losing a lot of time here!" _Why was she taking to long to actually tell me?_ I looked at her face, trying to catch the minutest detail that might tell me she was lying or mocking me. It was a lot harder than I expected. Her eyes were the only part I could see that divulged any real information and most of that was hidden behind a placid stare. I was starting to think that there _wasn't_ a non combustion-causing method.

_**There is one method I can think of which will allow you to fulfill your promise to Tooth, as well as speak with Jamie. **_Onyx continued, ignoring my rudeness. _**It is a relatively new method. Hardly any spirits use it and those that do are seasoned practitioners. It takes a lot of talent just to lean how to navigate it but once you do, the possibilities are limitless.**_

_Ooh boy, this is sounding better and better by the minute! _"What is it what is it what is it?! Seven league boots? A broomstick? A personal dimension-shifter, WHAT?!" I was practically vibrating with excitement. The chance to try out some new magic,_** unsupervised?! **_Agh! It was better than I could've hoped for!

Onyx cackled. _**Goodness child, calm down before you explode! I look the liberty of picking it up for you, **_she told me. _**Hold out your hand.**_

I did so and it was shaking so bad I had to use my other hand to hold it steady. Onyx leaned in and opened her mouth, letting a small, crumpled up piece of paper roll into my palm. I clutched the ball of paper like it was a magic ring, or something, hoping against hope for a spell or incantation to be written inside. "It's a spell, isn't it?" I asked her, grinning. "It's gotta be a spell. Something that uses its own power so that I don't go boom?"

_**Just open it up.**_

I nodded, my fingers fumbling to unwind the intricate folds and slightly sandy edges until a small, slightly rumpled note was lying in my palm. I recognized it as Pitch's handwriting immediately from those training notes, but this wasn't his usual slap-dash scribbling. It was only two words and a set of numbers, written in the center in careful, clear script.

"Last Light...6644?" Wait, didn't Pitch tell me that reading mysterious words aloud _wasn't_ OK? "Oops. Should I... not have read that?"

_**Don't be ridiculous. **_She replied, scratching the ground with her right back hoof._** I gave it to you for a reason. I wouldn't have even mentioned it to you, had I not intended you to use it.**_

I glanced at the paper again. "What...does it do?"

I swear if horses could raise eyebrows... _**Please sweetheart, please tell me you're not serious.**_

"I am serious!" I insisted, brandishing the paper aloft. "What the heck is this? A spell? A chant?" I truly had no clue.

Onyx rolled her eyes and when she spoke, she sounded absolutely disgusted. _**See, this! THIS is why spirits don't last as long as they used to! **_She told me. _**This is precisely why. Because they can't seem to think of answers or solutions to ANYTHING that don't involve magic! You are living in the 21**__**st**__** century, for pity's sake child! I could understand you not thinking about it if you lived in the 1600's or even in the late 1800's, but this is the age of the machine!**_

It was when she started to rant that I knew I'd really screwed something up. Onyx...didn't...rant. She grumbled, she whined, she _huffed_ _even_, but she didn't rant. If she was anything like her master, then the best course of action seemed to just stay quiet and let her finish.

_**Pitch was always like this too you know, **_the horse told me, stepping agitatedly back and forth, lifting her hooves up and down, slamming them against the ground. Boy, she was really pissed off now. Not at me, thankfully, but she was still pissed off at something. _**He abhorred using technology, all spirits do! And it's stupid! Why travel all across the globe when a simple phone call will do?!**_

"What does that have to do with…?" I held the paper up hesitantly.

She heaved a mighty sigh and the long strands of whispy smoke curling off her neck shook violently as she bemoaned my stupidity. _**Look at it, Meggie. What does it look like to you? You've been around for a while, you're used the internet, please tell me you recognize a skype username when you see it!**_

I looked at the paper again. The name did ring a bell. A really, really small bell. "Skype? Is that like google?" The murderous look I got in response told me no, it was not like google. Well how was I to know?! The most I'd done on the internet was search myself and play youtube songs!

Onyx rolled her eyes. _**I should've expected as much. Even the smartest spirits are sometimes the blindest. **_

"Hey!"

_**Sorry, shadowcat, sorry. **_Onyx nuzzled my shoulder apologetically and I patted her neck to let her know it was OK. In truth, I was more shocked that she called me one of the smartest spirits than anything. **_But it really is maddening sometimes. _**

I continued stroking her neck and the bridge of her nose, hoping it would calm her down while I spoke. Though she might talk, act, and reason like a human, her instincts were still animal. "I know, Onyx. Believe me, I know how stupid people can be sometimes. But, for the sake of both our sanities, how about you just take pity on a blind girl and explain. Hm?" I tried to look her in the eyes but apparently my patting her neck was more relaxing to the horse than I had anticipated.

Onyx wavered when I took my hand away from her throat, her eyes still shut and her breathing was slow. Then, all of a sudden, as if someone had pinched her, She jerked and golden eyes sapped back to life.

_**You're right, you're right I'm sorry Meggie. **_She apologized again, shaking her head a few times to clear it before settling back down to explain. **_When Pitch was...well...let's say for lack of a better word _**wallowing _**in self pity, he holed himself up here for a few months with nothing but a computer. He used it every day, checking on... things... **_She shifted awkwardly. **_The others got worried and asked someone to keep an eye on him, but since they were all so busy and he was closest-_**

"Jamie got boogeyman-sitting duty." I finished. "I see. So this is the skype username that Jamie has?"

_**Righto.**_

It was curling in my palm the longer I held it. Soon the ink would run with my sweat. "Well that's all very well and good Onyx, but why would I need it?"

Onyx was far beyond eye-rolling at this point. She just wanted to get this conversation over-with and go back to her regularly scheduled duties. _**You'll need it to find Jamie online, so that you can talk with him through skype. THAT way you don't break your promise, and Jamie knows you're safe!**_

Finally, it struck me. I clapped the hand with the piece of paper in it to my forehead. "Oh my gods, so that's it! Skype's a video-chatting thing!" NOW I remembered why it sounded familiar! Margaret mentioned the name a few times when talking about her friends across seas. They used skype to talk online but could never find a time where all of them could be on at once because of timezone differences! Ha. That always was a pain in the ass, wasn't it?

"Wait what?"

_**I didn't say anything. **_

"Not you, sorry. I was talking to myself."

Onyx's eyebrows furrowed. _**Meggie, are you Ok?**_

I was fine. Ish. I mean physically of course I've been better but mentally... I was getting close to a colossal train wreck. "It's nothing," I assured Onyx, getting up and hugging her. Anything to re-direct her thoughts and my own away from my momentary slip-up. "Thank you, thank you so much for this. You were right I was blind, but now I get it. I totally get it. Thank you."

Onyx rested her head against my shoulder hesitantly. Then, as I started to run my hand down her back she relaxed. _**Of course Meggie. It's no less than I would do for anyone else. **_

"Still..." I was really feeling that appreciation now and every word I spoke was truth. "Thank you."

Onyx suggested we take a trip to Pitch's room and steal his computer- temporarily. Which she called borrowing, and I was completely alright with that. After a few weeks of lying in bed and barely getting the chance to walk, my legs were definitely not what they used to be but Onyx refused to carry me. She claimed it was enabling laziness and that it would help get my strength back if I walked.

After much whining, I agreed and together we headed to the Boogeyman's room and picked up his obsidian computer. Being stuck in my room was also starting to give me cabin fever, so we mutually decided to take this little skype session into the living room. Thankfully, once I opened the slab of plastic and circuits up and got skype running, I found Jamie already online.

_Hey kiddo, guess who?_

His response felt like it took forever, even though it was one word. _Pitch?_

A wicked grin split my face and I clicked the video call button. He accepted the call and the computer began to hum and whir as processors went to work, calling up the live video-feed of Jamie and another box in the corner of me that was curiously blank.

The kid looked better-rested than last I'd seen him. The bags beneath his eyes had vanished and a small, hopeful smile was playing around his lips. As soon as his face appeared on-screen, I waved.

"Hiya Jamie! Good to see you again."

I was not prepared in the least for what happened next. Jamie frowned, innocent enough, but then he started to speak and I swear my eardrums both popped at the same time. "_Meggie?_" The noise was deafening, and worse, it was everywhere! All around me! A sick wraith of Jamie's voice, echoing off the walls.

"Fudging H Cripes!" I clapped my hand over my ears, wincing. "Onyx, fix it!"

In retrospect, this was a very very stupid thing to say. A horse's hearing is far superior to a human's, even a magical one- _especially_ a magical one. Which means that whatever pain I was experiencing from hearing Jamie's voice, Onyx was feeling it tenfold. She wasn't on her side or neighing in agony, but it had most certainly startled her.

_**I can't fix it! I don't know what's wrong! **_

"I know I'm sorry!"

"What's going on?" Jamie asked and I swear I almost passed out right then and there.

"Jamie, for the love of all that is and my eardrums, don't speak!" I begged him. "There's either a bunch of speakers hidden somewhere that the computer's hooked up to, or there's one big speaker and I can't find it either. No, don't answer! The best thing you can do is stay quiet and let me figure out what's going on."

The boy actually did open his mouth to respond, then thought better of it. He nodded and did some wacky signals with his hands that I neither understood nor had the time to think about.

"Probably sign," I muttered to myself as my fingers flew over the computer volume dials, adjusting for whatever needed be done but when I had Jamie make a noise after a few minutes fiddling, nothing had changed. "Dammit! Let me try and find those wires. Maybe if we unplug them manually..."

_**Well, the other one did say she set up speakers while Pitch was away. I never saw her or anyone sneaking into the caves and, at first neither Pitch or I believed that she actually had done it, but the sounds sure convinced me they were real. **_

"And, if they're real, then there's got to be a real hook-up or motherboard or something, something to shut these off!" I was up and tearing through the living room like a cyclone in only a few seconds. Onyx followed my lead, trying to help but there wasn't a whole lot she could do without opposible thumbs. She just nudged things aside for me and helped move stuff until I found what I was looking for.

It was small, and hidden away very well. I would quite honestly say I lucked out when I tripped over the wire that led to the black box hooked up in the corner, by the couch. I picked it up, wondering what it was at first. Then the wires leading from it caught my attention and I followed them up to speakers which were indeed hooked up all around the room. I didn't take them down, per-se, but I did turn the max volume down by 50% and braced myself.

"Go ahead Jamie, say something. Onyx, if you wanna save your ears, now's the time to run."

Onyx pawed the ground nervously.** _Nah, I'm good here. I wanna see how this goes. _**

"Uhh, hello? Is everything OK?" Jamie's voice issued from the empty air at a thankfully managable level and we shared smiled.

"Everything's fine kiddo, we're back online. Just gimmie a second to put this gadget back and I'll be right with you!" Stowing it back in its' place and re-arranging the wires until they blended back into the rock and shadows was easy enough. When I walked back around the couch and sat down to face the screen, I saw Jamie beaming.

"Hey Meggie, long time no see!"

"Indeed. And I'm sorry about that, I was unavoidably detained. How've you been kiddo? Keeping up on your schoolwork and stuff?"

Jamie winced.

"Kid..."

"It's just a science essay!" He defended, shoulders hunched as I frowned with disappointment. "Nothing major, prepare a simple compound! I can do it in the morning tomorrow!"

"Wait... isn't tomorrow Saturday?"

I swear his eyes lit up like the Queen's jubilee. Jamie leaped up from his computer chair and began to cavort all around his room, giggling and cheering. "Woohoo, weekend! Ye-US! More time for my video games!"

Onyx chuckled. Kids. _No matter what age they're in they all just want to have fun._

Jamie stopped dancing at the sound of that word and sped back to the monitor, looking excited and slightly worried. "Hey, speaking of fun. You haven't seen Jack around have you? It's been a while since I've seen or talked to him. Is there something going on in the spirit world? Some big party? Is that why I haven't heard from anybody?"

I shrugged. "Not that I know of kiddo, I've been unconscious and then confined to solitary in my room for the past month or so. Pitch and Tooth had been keeping an eye on me, but I haven't seen or heard of any Jack."

Poor kid looked so disappointing and I hoped he hadn't been paying close enough attention to catch what I had said. I really should've known better. The kid was sharp as a tack and caught it instantly as I saw the look of disappointment shift to one of worry.

"Unconsious? Solitary? Why were you confined to solitary? Are you alright did something happen to you? Did some other spirits pick on you?" And suddenly he was off, rambling a-mile-a-minute, asking questions so fast that all I could catch were a few detached words.

I raised my hands, hoping to quench this worry as fast as possible. The last thing I needed was Jamie refusing to help me gain more strength in my powers because HE thought I was a china doll too! "Hey hey kiddo, slow down a bit! I'm perfectly alright," I did a little twirl to show him the predominant lack of scars and wounds that had once visited my skin. "See? I just had a nasty run-in with some fire spirits and had to take some time-off to recuperate. Nothing big, nothing major. I just over-extended myself a bit and I'm calling now to let you and Cupcake and the others know that I'm alright."

He still didn't look too assured, but my story seemed to be believable enough to not be questioned. Jamie nodded. "Well, OK. If you're really fine."

I didn't think it would be smart, in my present condition, to attempt a Change, so I settled for a flashy twist that sent my body spinning back towards the couch. I hit the corner hard enough to knock a good portion of the wind out of me, but Jamie was still watching to I put on a brave face and held up my hands. "Ta-da! See? Fit as a fiddle."

The smile on his face as I dropped onto the couch was enough to draw a smile back on my face. "So, what's up with you kiddo?"

We chatted for a bit, mostly keeping the conversation centered on Jamie; Jamie's school life, the other kids, how they were doing, how his sister was, things like that. It wasn't that I didn't have anything to say on the matters. I was just too tired to summon up any concrete answers in the rare times when we did talk about me.

How was I doing? Fine. How were Tooth and Pitch? Great. Was I keeping up on my practices? No. had I discovered anything new? No, apart from the wires.

In the end, Jamie stopped asking me questions and began relaying stories to me about the past weeks. Some funny, some sad. But it passed the time until a muffled voice called form downstairs and Jamie said he had to go get dinner. I told him that was Ok, that I had stuff to do as well- which was a lie, but I didn't really care. Moving and running around was really taking a toll on me, cutting off my breath into short bursts. My chest ached and Onyx could tell very well what was going on, but thankfully she stayed silent until we signed off.

_**You really shouldn't be doing this to yourself, **_she told me reproachfully.

I glanced up and made a pitiful attempt to play dumb. "Hm? What's that Onyx?"

She stomped an impatient hoof. _**Don't give me that, you can barely breathe! You're going back in your room and resting for a few more hours! **_

"Onyx, come on be reasonable!"

_**I am being reasonable! Stand up!**_

I did, for about five seconds before an over-whelming dizziness washed over me and sent me crumbling down. Onyx looked on with a self-satisfied smirk. "Yeah yeah, laugh it up you dozy horse." I grouched, folding my arms across my chest. Why did I always have to end up looking stupid or in the wrong? "But if I can't stand there's no way I'm getting back to my room. So I guess I'm just stuck here."

_**I guess so, **_Onyx conceded.**_ There's a blanket and pillows over here if you need and I can get you a book to pass the time, or do you want to just sleep?_**

Haha, revenge! Now it was MY turn to be the smart one! "Sleep? Are you kidding me? I've got the Boogeyman's laptop within arms' reach, with a wellspring of blackmail and potential blackmail at my fingertips, and you think I'm gonna go to _sleep? _Are you nuts?!"

_**Why do I feel like it was a bad idea to let you near that thing? **_Onyx asked, mostly to herself.

"Probably because it was." I replied, hauling the black monster up from its' table and onto my lap. "But its too late now! Mwuhahaha!"

Or it would've been, if I had been able to find anything useful on there.

"Are- are you serious?" I asked the computer, scrolling through the files for the umpteenth time. There was nothing. No incriminating or embarrassing pictures, no documents of self-pity or sensitive information. "What a bore. What a lame-ass waste of time. Well, in doubt, skim the internet!" And so I opened a browser. Firefox, of course. I was hoping for some online games or something- something totally mind-numbing like that balloons game Monty was so fond of, but before I could even type in the first letter a notification popped up on the screen.

Onyx was over at my side in a minute, looking over my shoulder. _**Just a notification on Faebook, **_she pronounced after a few minutes. _**Nothing to worry about.**_

"Faebook?" I repeated, keeping the little tab open by hovering over it with my mouse. "What's that?"

_**It's kind of like an online chatroom for spirits. **_She explained. _**Right after the invention of the internet, some such spirit got sick of communicating with other spirits via letters of magical means, so for the first time ever in history, they resorted to mortal means.**_

"Huh. So, spirits talk to one another on it? Like skype?"

_**Not exactly kiddo. It's more like they can send messages instantly. Like a quicker mailing service. Of course it quickly evolved to encompass much more than business. People have discussions, family members share photographs and stories, all sorts of stuff. **_

Hmm, interesting. "I didn't know spirits went for that kind of thing."

_**Well it's not all work you know. Like I said earlier this is the age of the machine and technology. And spirits have to keep with the times.**_

_Keep up with the..._*Gasp*_ Lightbulb! I wonder if a certain mysterious angel might be found on there..._

"_Hey Ooonyx,_ do you think Pitch would mind if I took a look at this...Faebook?" I asked innocently, my finger ready to hit the button. "I mean, if it's a site for communication with spirits but I'm not strong enough to actually meet them, what better way to learn more about them than this site?"

Onyx looked suspicious, and she had a total right to be. _**Well, I don't know. You would have to log in with Tooth or Pitch's ID. Fortunately for you I know both, I just don't know if he would be OK with it...**_

"Oh please Onyx?" I didn't like resorting to begging but desperate times and all... At least I put on a good show. Big, wide eyes, clasped hands and the incredibly effective wobbly lip that made Boogeyman cave and Tooth Fairies melt. "Pleeeeease? I'm just so bored, sitting here all day!"

The unimpressed look on her face was beyond hilarious. _**You've been sitting here for ten minutes. **_

"Oh you know what I mean!" I scowled. "Here, in this place! Cave-locked! It's driving me insane Onyx, I need something new, something interesting! Some interactions that don't involve over-protective parents, little kids of ponies!"

_**Hey! I resemble that remark! **_Onyx pawed the ground, thinking it over for a moment. **_Well, I suppose he wouldn't mind if you just took a look. But don't spend too much time on there, you need to rest. _**

I gave her a cheeky salute. "Yes ma'me!"

After making sure I was tucked up on the couch in a blanket cuccoon, safe and sound- lest I do something stupid and hurt myself more -or at least that's how Onyx put it, the horse left me to my own devices and I was free to peruse the magics of the interweb. And especially this so-called Faebook.

As it turned out, the site was pretty cool. The typefaces were a curly violet and white, matching the elegant lavender background. A big, bold legend across the top read: _Faebook- your spiritual connection_ in an easily-legible script. There were tabs all over the place- a game tab, an archive for Pitch's pictures, one for conversations and a search bar. Leaping at the sight, I typed _Angel_ into the search bar and spent a few minutes scrolling before realizing nothing was clicking with my sordid memories.

_Hmm, what else? Angel with black wings? _I tried it. _Nah, still too vague._ I tried searching all the keywords I could think of, but nothing turned up. Not a speck. No pictures, no messages between Pitch and her- that one was a long shot and I knew it, and just like I expected it didn't do any good.

"Dammit, I knew this was too easy!" I grumbled, tossing the mouse back on my lap in a huff. No angel, not even a trace. Maybe she didn't use this faebook thing. In which case, I would feel really stupid.

I was just about to call it a night and go to sleep like Onyx had recommended, but truth be told I really did want to check out some of the other spirits. Pitch had about sixty or seventy in his list, and a good portion of them were in the family section too. It showed that two of them were online: Someone named Micha and someone else named Nicholas St. North. The last name sounded familiar, so I didn't bother with it. But this Micha guy...maybe he could be an interesting conversation.

I started it out with something simple. _Hey_. And got a reply almost instantly.

_Hey Pitch, haven't heard from you in a long time. What's happening across the pond?_

I had to do a quick search on this Micha's page to see what he was talking about. _Right, it says he lives in Britain._ Big Ben, to be exact. _What a weird place to live. _

"Hmm, what do I say... _Nothing much. I'm sorry I haven't been around lately, lots of work._ Yeah, that works."

_Same here. How's your family been? I heard you were thinking about adopting a kid spirit._

"Wait a minute..."_ From who? _I was on the edge of my seat for the three long, agonizing seconds it took him to respond.

_From Tooth. She stopped by the tower on her way home from work a few weeks ago to return a sample of my macrame and to get a few new patterns for her home. _

OK, this was totally off-topic but I was curious. _You knit?_

_I've told you before Pitch, it's not knitting. It's intricate knot-tying. You should try it sometime, it's very relaxing._

"Huh. Interesting pastime."_ I'm sure I'll get around to it eventually._ I told him, smirking as my fingers flew over the keyboard. _Unfortunately, I don't have time for idle chit-chat. I'm in search of someone. A spirit, one I haven't seen before and I was hoping you could point me in the right direction. _

It felt like he took forever to read the message, even though it was short. But the reply I got made my heart soar. _Of course, anything for you old man. What do they look like? Did you get a name?_

_No, I didn't. _I admitted._ But she was tall, very slender, with curly brown hair like a thicket. She wore almost all black and had a lot of weapons. Oh, and the wings. She had grayish black angel-wings. _

_Angel-wings? As in just two?_

_Yeah. Why? Ring a bell? _

_Not a lot of spirits have angel-wings, so my best bet is that you ran into Lilliana. She's the only one I know of that matches your description. But I've got to ask Pitch, what on earth were you doing around her? You know her powers are volatile around pain and suffering. I mean I know you're rehabilitated and all but... _Here Micha's message ended.

Bloody hell, this was becoming more and more interesting. An angel named Lilliana who feeds on pain and suffering? Or is repulsed by it? "But...I was hurting. If she feeds on it, why was I fixed up? And if she's repulsed by it, why wasn't I brought back to Pitch sooner?"

I decided to ask Micha. _Listen, I don't want this getting around but you remember that spirit I was thinking about adopting? I did. Her name is Meggie and she's the most precious thing in the world to me. Apart from Tooth, of course. She's a wonderful, beautiful child with a lot of talent, but she's also a little... _Was foolhardy the word? Reckless? Stupid? _Adventurous. _

_Go on._

_Well, she went out exploring, got herself into some trouble and this girl, Lilliana, helped her out. I'm trying to find her and thank her, before my little houseguest heals enough to want to go find her herself._

_Ah, I see. You're trying to find Lilly before your girl does. _

_Yes. _

_If it's not too intrusive, may I ask why? Is she too hurt to leave your home?_

"Hmm, what would Pitch say?" I tapped the edge of the computer thoughtfully for a moment. _She's healing fine from the whole ordeal. Much better than I expected, actually. It's more about my peace of mind than anything. I'd never admit this to her, you understand, but I get absolutely terrified whenever she leaves the caves without me or one of the nightmares. _

_Terrified of what?_

"Oh, if only he knew..." _Terrified her big mouth is going to get her in trouble and that she won't come back to me. _

_Ah, I see. Well, in that case you should tell her._

"Hehe, time to play the acting card."_ Are you serious? I'm the boogeyman! The terror that flaps! I care about her, she knows that, but I can't show her that I'm afraid! That's the hinge of all my power! I have to remain fearless, or at least pretend well enough to make people think I'm fearless! _

_Pitch, _I could almost hear the sarcasm dripping through the words._ This isn't the dark ages. You aren't being persecuted anymore for what you are, at least not by the Guardians or the other spirits of good. You should just tell her, and go together to talk with Lilly. Since you seem to be a lot less miserable now that you have this girl and Tooth, maybe you can hold a conversation with her._

_I'll think about it,_ I promised him._ Can you tell me where to find her?_

_Well, she's got quite a few houses scattered across the globe. But she makes her prime residence in Buckingham Palace's attic. I suggest checking there first, but if she's not there she has another main residence in Japan, near Tokyo._

At first, I was delighted to finally have her whereabouts. I started wiggling my feet and cheering, elated to have found someone who knew her on the very first try! Then, as I went to type a response thanking him, something clicked in my brain and I sat back, wondering why he should know all this. "And better yet, why should he tell me? I mean Pitch?" I asked him that very same question and he replied swiftly.

_Why Pitch, you know me better than that. It's my job to know where the spirits are and what they're up to._

"Ooooh shit..." I felt my fingers trembling. Was I...talking to the Man in the Moon? The leader of the spirits? Pitch had said a name many times, something with an M in it when referencing the leader of the spirits that had brought him back from the brink of death. Was this him? Micha? No, I couldn't be! But who else... I checked his page. Nothing, except for his residence. No family, no clue as to what kind of spirit he was. But if Pitch already knew him, my asking would just make him suspicious and then- "He might alert her! Oh hell no, I'm not losing this chance!"

"Stay calm," I whispered as my fingers tapped tentatively on the keyboard. "I can't give myself away."

_Fair enough. Thank you for your help._

_Any time. Oh, and tell your new girl that I look forward to meeting her at the annual spirit ball at the Pole this Christmas. North's still hosting, right?_

"Pole...North... oh crap. That was Santa Clause. Well, I'm sure glad I didn't message him first, otherwise this entire thing might've been blown!" _I'm not sure, I'll have to ask him. Have a pleasant evening Micha._

_Same to you Pitch. Good luck finding her, and think about what I said eh? I have to go oil the mice now, bye._

"Oil the-" And then the little green icon glinting next to his name disappeared. "Damn. I was kind of curious about that." _Ah well, nothing to do about it now. _I had my quarry's location. Now all I needed to do was muster up A- the courage to ask Onyx to be my ride, B- the strength to get me there on my own, or C- finagle some alternative means of transportation. All difficult, in their own way, but the easiest of the three would undoubtedly be Onyx. I wasn't even close to strong enough to fly again, and waiting was NOT an option for me. Not now that I knew she was here.

"And I have no idea how to teleport or use any of the magical doodads I'm sure Pitch has got stashed away in his stuff, so horsey it is! HEY ONYX!" Thundering hoofbeats answered my call and in a second I heard her barreling down the corridor, strong hooves digging into the ground as she screeched to a halt. Her eyes were wild and anxious and she pawed the ground like she'd just finished a race and couldn't keep still.

_**What is it? What's going on Meggie? Is someone here?**_

"No." I told her simply, closing the laptop. "I need a ride."

I swear, I thought that horse was going to trample me right then and there. Remember that twitch in Pitch's left eye that sometimes happens when I annoy him to the point of no return? It was there now, in her eye. _**What...?**_

"I need a ride. Quickly, if you don't mind. Before Pitch gets back. He shouldn't be done with his rounds for another couple of hours, but I like erring on the safe side." I stood up, smiling. "Let's go ponygirl, before he comes back and I don't get another chance!"

If a horse could be livid, it was Onyx. _**What in the seven hells makes you think I'm going to take you anywhere?! You're recovering from injury, barely able to stand, let alone use your powers or even keep them in check! You could lose control and start to change and fall off me in mid-flight!**_

"Not if we get where we need to go quickly," I corrected, smirking. "I just need you to drop me off at Buckingham Palace, no big deal."

_**NO BIG DEAL?! That's half-way across the world!**_

"Oh don't exaggerate," I scoffed. "It's only a third of the way. Now, if you don't mind, let's get going! Come on Onyx, I just want to thank her for saving my life! And potentially get some questions answered! Why are you being such a stick in the mud?"

_**BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T TELL ME WHAT WAS GOING ON! **_Onyx thundered, bringing her golden eyes right up against mine.**_ YOU NEVER TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON! You just assume I'm going to go along with your hair-brained scheme! _**

"But of course. Because, like all good practitioners of blackmail, I have an ace in the hole."

Haha, caught her! Onyx cocked her head to the side curiously. _**And what, pray tell, would that be?**_

"My bet that Pitch will me more pissed if he finds me gone and you here than if he found out you escorted me somewhere." I replied smoothly, smirking as she realized what devious little scheme I'd cooked up. Really, it was the same plan I'd been using for weeks now. It just happened to suit the situation.

Onyx bucked and grumbled a bit more but, in the end, she agreed and we set out to Buckingham Palace. The only problem was, by the time we got there, we only had an hour to wait before Pitch got back to the caves and in that hour, I saw hide nor hair of the leather-cloaked angel.

_**Well, we tried. Let's head home. **_Onyx nudged me towards the open window. **_Get you tucked up in bed before your over-protective father catches us!_**

"No!" I snapped, shoving her away and glaring about the room. From the moment I'd stepped into it, a creeping aura of familiarity settled upon my shoulders that I couldn't shake. I'd been here before, I knew it. This was where she'd taken me after...whatever had happened. "She might not be here now, but I _need_ to talk with her! Soon!" _I've already got enough damn memories missing, I don't need more!_

_**So just leave a note and let's go! **_Onyx snapped. _**If we're late and Pitch finds out-**_

"He'll just yell like always," I finished, eyes lingering on a sheaf of papers resting on the windowsill. Onyx's words had sparked something of a plan in me. _Hmm. A note. Why not?_


	26. Excessive Uses Of The Word Fuck

**OK, apologies now for exactly what the title says. But the real woman swears like a sailor and I wanted to be true. **

**Glad I managed to get this up, lovely lunar eclipse guest reviewer person whose birthday is on the 15th consider this your present if I can't update again before then, happy birthday. **

**This part is really intricate to the story, read carefully! Have fun, enjoy existence, party like it's 1999.**

* * *

It takes a lot to trip out the angel of pain and suffering.

Just putting that out there now.

After several hundred years of flying around the earth, seeking out destruction for its' life-sustaining energy, being the cause of destruction because the abilities churning inside you are too great for a mortal form to even comprehend, let alone control; things like that tend to make one very resilient towards things that would make normal people do double-takes.

But you try coming home after a long day's work to find your front door open, your window unlocked, stuff slightly askew and a vaguely stalkerish note sitting on your pillow. Yes, it took a lot to scare, frighten, startle or otherwise spook an angel. But that little note lying folded up all nice and pretty against her black body-pillow made her heart leap into her chest, her knees start to tremble and gave her the awful urge to gnaw at her black-glossed nails.

_Oh my gods what do I do what do I do?! _The same thought raced through her head, over and over again. Her home had been violated by an unknown person or persons. This was reason enough to give her a mental breakdown. This was her home, dammit! NO ONE she didn't want here should've been able to get in here!

"Some fat load of good having magic is," she grumbled. "I can't even throw people out of my house if I'm not home. What a crock. The least I should be able to do is cast magic missile or some such fuckery."

_Wrong kind of magic dunderhead,_ her logical side told her._ Now, should I pick up the note or blast it out of existence? _Both options were tempting, and she spent a good ten minutes deliberating on the pros and cons of opening versus blasting the note before growling, "Oh screw it!" and gingerly reaching for the folded slip of paper. It didn't explode on contact with her fingers, so that was good. Next step was to open it, which she didn't do until she was holding it out the window.

And, when it didn't let out a fiery inferno of wrath, she let out a sigh of relief and opened it up all the way.

_Hi. _It read. _You might not know me, or maybe you do. You sort of know me, since you saved my life and all but you haven't actually met me me. _"Me me?" _Anyway, my name is Meggie and I would really appreciate it if you could stop by Burgess forest sometime soon so that we can talk. Oh, I'm that wolf you took care of. Sorry, I should've mentioned that before. Anyway, look forward to seeing you. I swear this isn't some weird hero-worship stalker thing, I just want to thank you personally and maybe make a new friend. OK? I'll see you later. Or, at least, I hope I will. Chow! _

And at the bottom of the paper, in a slightly messy script was scribble a name. Meggie Black.

Lilly dropped the paper. It hit the ground with a feather-light flurry and laid there at her feet while the recipient's mind raced. _How did she find me? Does she remember what happened? _"Shit!" The angel, engulfed in a sudden fit of rage, swung around and decked her coffeemaker. The glass shattered at her touch, flying in all directions and she swore vehemently. "DAMN! Just what I need!"

To distract herself, Lilly stooped to pick up the fragments, grumbling all the while. "Fucking coffeemaker, can't even stand to be hit a couple of times. _Useless_." While her mind raced with the same questions over and over again. _What to do...what to do... _

"I can't meet her. No way." That was a given. She'd been down this road before, more times than she cared to admit. A friendly face, a casual meeting, some light laughter and then a duel to the death or a daring escape that usually involved decimating whatever was trying to 'befriend' her. "But how am I going to keep her from hounding me once she realizes I'm not going to meet her?" If she was persistent as a wolf, Lilly had no doubt she would be even more so as a human. Or whatever she was. Still not too sure on that.

There was always the simple option: don't show up. And if she comes a-knocking around here, blast her out of the sky. But somehow, Lilly doubted that would do anything to dissuade her. _I could just avoid her, _she reasoned, dumping the glass and plastic that was the remains of her coffeemaker in the bin near her bed. _Wait her out. _Tactical retreats had won her many a battle in the past.

Unfortunately, regardless of what she called it, it was still running away and hiding. From a shape-shifter. One that hadn't even been able to take on a gang of Pyreans. How pathetic was that?

_No, no. I shouldn't say that. Those second-rate matchsticks are pretty tough in their own right. _But still...

"Running and hiding though it may be, if it works it works. The last thing I need is to have a tagalong Shape-shifter dogging my steps." Eventually she'll get tired of trying to find me and let it go.

Maybe.

And so Lilly did just that. She ignored the note, threw it in her miscellaneous papers file, and tried to forget all about it. Duty called, the same duty she had been neglecting for a good two weeks prior to getting rid of her houseguest. Pain was at an all-time high in America and every time she visited across the pond, the black angel had to steel herself to keep from passing out in mid-flight.

_What the hell is wrong with people? _She wondered, circling a Washington state high school where yet another shooting had occurred. _Why does my job even have to be a thing? Seriously. I understand all the others; love, joy, hope, all that jazz. I even get fear, but pain?! _

It made her sick to her stomach to see the young men and women being carted away on stretchers, limbs bleeding profusely from bullet wounds and burns encrusting their skin. Most had glassy, distant eyes and were lying still but a few were screaming in unadulterated agony, thrashing and flailing in what little ways they could while strapped to the gurneys. _Why haven't they been medicated yet?_ She wondered, gliding down to one of the school's buildings and taking a perch near the chaos to observe.

Humans were so strange. And blind. Or, in this case, nose-blind. They couldn't smell the bitter, wretched scent of suffering in the air. They couldn't see the black auras seeping from the wounds of teenagers who probably hadn't even had their first kisses as they were carted away into big red ambulances. But she could.

"They're so useless," the angel of pain muttered, sliding open the small box which hung on the golden chain at her throat and preparing to direct all the blackness into it. The people, the ground, even the very air was saturated in pain and anguish. But Lilly ignored it all and stoically did her job, channeling the hurt of the teenagers and soul-wrecked parents into the wooden box that rested in her palm. The mirror-like stone on the lid glowed black, causing her breath to hitch.

_Holy hell, that's some potent stuff. I'd better get it inside quickly before it summons a hurricane like last time. _

Pain, any emotion really, is about willpower. If you have enough, you can exert some semblance of control over it. In her line of work, willpower was essential in keeping the raw, destructive power of pain contained. Only her will and the strength her maker (and, coincidentally, adopted brother) had gifted her with kept what was in the vessel around her neck from breaking free and spilling out into the world.

"Like it doesn't have enough pain and suffering already," Lilly growled as she marshaled the last of the black substance into the tiny wooden box and slipped the lid shut. Seconds later, the stone on the lid pulsed and became white again, giving the impression that the pain had been destroyed but Lilly knew better. It was still there, lurking within, dying for a chance to come back out and latch onto another host or hosts. "Bloody parasites."

Lilly raised her wings which were aching and took to the skies. Small veins of black glistened on her feathers and the odd patch of gray gave them a disheveled, dirty look that she absolutely deplored, but there was nothing she could do about it except wait for the after-effects of taking the pain to wear off. And the only way she could facilitate that was sleep. And lots of it.

Rising up to a height of 45,000 feet, and passing a few airplanes on the way, allowed Lilly to scan a good portion of the state. There were no other significant sources of pain popping up on her radar. Here, the angel thought with a bitter scowl. Pain was out there, she could feel it. Large pockets, like dens of festering monsters lurking in the corners of her mind and on the air, running amok because she hadn't been working America as much as she should've.

"Welp, maybe it's time to change that." She decided, revolving until she was facing towards the sea and taking a nose-dive back down to five hundred feet. She wasn't in the mood to go all the way back across the ocean, and frankly Lilly didn't think she could handle it even if she was. That single transferal had taken a lot out of her.

_I can barely stay aloft now, _she reasoned. _And I'm no use to anyone exhausted out of my mind. So why not find a nice den and crash for a while and I can get back on the hunt tomorrow night?_

"'Merica has been without my help for long enough!" The badass in black proclaimed, heading west towards her seaside villa on the Island of Victoria, BC. "It's high time I took a break from battling the forces of pain in Europe. Besides, they've been doing pretty well lately." And America looked like it was going to tear itself apart with all the pain and suffering that was soaking into the ground.

_Yes, I definitely need to stay here for a bit. _The farther west she went, the stronger the pull on her necklace. There was pain here, but she was too tired to deal with it now. Much too tired.

It was mildly refreshing to feel the warm breeze on her face and the scent of pine in her nose. You had to travel into the mountains to get air this fresh in Europe, but in Washington state it clung to everything like a rich, intoxicating miasma. Lilly made sure to fly high, keeping to the clouds that hung menacingly around the massive snow-capped peaks, threatening to drench the people milling about below. Several very powerful spirits made their homes here, and the last thing she wanted was to be seen by any of them.

_Bloody hell it's been so long since I've been here, _Lilly realized, swooping across island on warm air-currents and banking to avoid the occasional brick smoke-stack or metal pipe. Even in the dark, everything looked the same. Windows with neon signs glowing harshly, street lamps combating them with a gentle candle-glow, the occasional drunk staggering around, looking for a place to piss. Good old Victoria. _Now where the hell am I going? Oh yeah, right. _Fairfield, right across from the castle.

One sharp left turn later and she found it, alighting on the roof and flipping the hatch with a flick of her book before tucking her wings against her back and sliding down the ladder. The bookshop was just as she'd left it, if a little more dusty. Stacks upon stacks of every reading material imaginable and knick-knacks befitting the old-timey feeling of the city sat upon wooden shelves, the glass figurines staring dully back at her.

Lilly stole into the back silently, letting her wings seep into the skin beneath her jacket so that she didn't have to worry about knocking anything over. It was nearly morning, but the shopkeeper was still awake, pouring over a text while a small radio hummed with Tibetan soundscapes.

"Hey Bianca," Lilly greeted the woman, nodding her head politely. She didn't look up. "I know it's been a long time, but I'm just gonna stay a few days. You don't mind, do you?"

"Go right ahead." Bianca answered, still not looking up from her book. The magical wards placed upon the shop had told the owner of her arrival long before she had even set foot on the island. "You know I've always got a spare room open for you Lilliana."

The angel winced and said reproachfully, "Bi, I've asked you not to call me that."

Finally, the woman looked up. Her topaz eyes glittered as a small smirk slipped onto her dark lips. "You will always be Lilliana to me, my dear." She answered, closing the book. "How is your brother?"

"He's been doing good, from what little I see of him." She replied, sinking down into a chair. It wouldn't hurt to have a little chat before nap time. And she hadn't seen Bianca in such a very long time. "What about you? Is your sister still trying to summon the forces of darkness?"

Bianca chuckled, walking around the counter to turn her radio off and sit down in the plush armchair beside her guest. "Yes, she's still trying to commune with the creatures of the Abyss. I haven't the heart to tell her that's all just part of a role playing game and the real creatures of darkness wear bunny slippers in their off-time."

Lily snickered. That had to be the funniest episode of Spirit home videos she had ever seen. The lord of fear himself, wearing pink bunny slippers. Maybe that was what had driven Pitch Black over the edge... "I see."

"So what brings you back to Victoria?" The young mage asked, crossing her legs beneath the flowing green skirt. "Last I heard, your base of operations was in Europe."

"It was. Is," the angel corrected herself, shivering a little as a gust of wind blew in from the hatch upstairs. Bianca noticed and snapped her fingers, causing the hatch upstairs to shut.

"You must be cold from your long flight. Here, let me stoke the fire." Without moving from her spot in the chair, Bianca stomped her foot and one, then two, then three of the logs that sat in a grate beside the fireplace jumped out and rolled obediently into the fireplace. "It's so dark in here," the mage continued, touching the ornate flame rune tattooed on her thumb which ignited a minuscule glow on the tip of her first finger's nail.

Always fascinated with earthborn magic (and knowing that Bianca had a flare for the dramatic because she barely ever got to show off her magic), Lilly watched as the mage blew on her finger, raising cobalt blue sparks to a candle's flame and then cast her hand out, letting the fire accumulate in the center of her palm for a moment before setting them loose along the paths of chi leading down her fingertips to race to all the unlit candles scattered around the room.

"That is so cool!"

Bianca smiled, blowing out the tiny spark that still resided on her nail. "Just re-appropriation of energy, good meditation and a strong source of inner peace." She said modestly.

"Yeah but it's still cool. Why can't I do stuff like that?"

All the flames in the room turned purple as Bianca sighed in exasperation. "Because, Lilliana. You're a spirit and I'm a mage. You have the ability to sprout wings from your back, control pain-"

"_Channel_." She corrected sharply. "Not control. Nobody can control that element. It's far too volatile."

"Fair enough," Bianca inclined her head, still smiling. "But in any case, you have a close connection to the Aether. I merely siphon off magical energy and use my own will to exercise control over minor sources of power."

_Yeah, a close connection to Aether's backside_. Lilly knew ruefulness wasn't the best trait to have as a spirit- since she was practically immortal and had plenty of time to nurse grudges -but this was one grudge that wasn't going away any time soon. So she just smiled, put on a brave face and nodded. "Yeah, and if I recall from all your whining, it took about ten years to even learn how to make a rock move."

"Only because my grandmother hexed my Grimiore so that I could only master elemental magic with age." She grumbled, casting a murderous look at a candle burning on the mantle. It was probably the totem of her grandmother. "Family, eh?"

Lilly shrugged, having not much to say on the subject. "Yeah, family."

Some mages, Bianca being one of them, took a lot of power from their ancestors' souls. Even regular souls were among the strongest sources of energy in the universe; the power of creation, trapped inside every single member of every single bloodline. Or so Bianca claimed. And tapping into that ancestral lineage was some pretty strong juju all on its' own.

The mage and the angel chatted a bit more, catching up on old times and, in Lilly's case, asking if anyone had been poking around, looking for her. The answer was, to her relief, no. No one important at any rate. Her in-laws had dropped by just a year ago, trying to get her to come to a family dinner but, by that time, she'd been long-gone back to europe.

"Did you end up going?"

"What, to the dinner? Oh _hells_ _to the motherfucking no._" Lilly shook her head, the corkscrew curls bouncing violently. "You know I don't do family functions, Bi. Besides, they're Micha's family. Not mine."

"They still love you." Bi reminded her earnestly. "Iris was frantic when I told her you'd moved out and the first question on her lips was 'where did she go?'" The elemental mage fixed her with a piercing stare. "Do you know how much guts it took to tell her I didn't know? Do you, Lilliana?"

Lilly cringed. Oh yeah, she knew. Because it was the same amount of guts her brother summoned every single time his parents asked where she was because she, Lilly, couldn't do it herself.

Bianca, seeing her point was made, decided to back off a little bit. She smiled and reached for her friend's hand. "Hey. Listen, I only tell you these things because I care about you, OK?"

And that, right there, was the problem. "I'm fine, really Bi." There, that's it. Hide your shame behind bluster and false confidence. Good girl. _It's kept me alive this long, why not keep up pretenses? _But Bianca knew her too well, and the last thing she wanted was to piss the mage off. So, instead of digging herself into an even deeper hole by elaborating, she stood. "I'm tired Bi, I've been flying all night and my wings are so sore, my legs hurt and unless you plan on getting me drunk, I bid you a goodnight."

The mage nodded. "Goodnight angel. I'll wake you when the sun goes down tomorrow."

And with that, Lilly headed back upstairs to the loft room above the shop where, without even bothering to remove her jacket or boots, she crashed down into a nest of blankets and pillows, curled up and went to sleep. The sandman was not amongst her admirers, which allowed her sleeping mind to be blissfully blank the entire thirteen hours she slept.

XXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, going back in time a fraction, we find our resident Changeling is slightly less batshit crazy than before.

Following her fruitless endeavor to contact the angel and subsequent returning to the caves, the disheartened Meggie dismounted Onyx and headed back to her room. Only moments after settling in to her Pajamas and a good book, she heard the doorknob jiggling and Pitch walked in, carrying a small tray of food.

"Meggie? Are you awake sweetheart?"

Meggie set down_ A Clockwork Orange _and fixed him with a sardonic look. "Are any of us truly awake, dad? In the grand scheme of things? Or are we just living in a dream-like state of existence where reality is limited by our perception and reality is just part of that dream?"

"You've been reading Stephen Hawking again, haven't you?" Pitch smiled, kicking the door shut with his heel and crossing over to her bed. "You know Meggie, I think you and Sandy would really get along great. He's into all that cosmic reality stuff too. I don't really understand it but..." He shrugged. "Sanderson was always the smart one."

Meggie sat up, taking in the delicious scents of cinnamon, orange juice and the sugary tang of marmalade before the tray even reached her bed. "You brought me breakfast?"

"Of course. My way of making up being gone on my patrols."

"You don't have to do that, I know you've got a job to do and I don't want you feeling guilty that you have to leave me to do it. I'm fully capable of taking care of myself." Pitch coughed and she fixed him with a murderous glare. "Yes? Something to say on that note, _father?_"

Where normally Pitch would glow with pride at being called father or dad by his adoptive daughter, the menace in her tone made him wince. Something, probably losing those two weeks' worth of memories, had made his child slightly more defensive and prone to snapping at him for silly things. It was slightly ridiculous, but he let it slide to a degree. However, the Boogeyman was not known for his ability to sugarcoat things.

"Meggie, you can barely stand upright and walk ten feet." He said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I love you, but I'm trying to be realistic. I'm not trying to cage you or keep you from anything that you love, but you are still recovering!"

"I can't very well recover if you won't let me out of bed!" She snapped. "Ever read _the secret garden?_ The boy wasn't sick because of an illness, he was sick because they kept him locked up in his room and in bed, thinking he was unable to walk. And in Heidi! The rich girl could walk, it just took a lot of time and patience and training."

"You are not a character in a book, Meggie." Pitch snapped, his patience wearing thin. "You are a spirit, and you are my daughter. Adopted or not, the last thing I want to do is isolate you from experiencing the world but godsdammit Meggie," he sighed, bringing his hands up to his temples tiredly. "You keep getting hurt!"

"And I'm probably gonna keep getting hurt," she retorted, folding her arms. "Like you said, it's all a learning experience! Doesn't every spirit go through this at one point in their life?"

Pitch fixed her with a rueful glare. "Most spirits aren't as danger-prone as you are my dear."

"Again, not my fault nor my problem! I'm just trying to live my life, find my purpose and not get mortally killed along the way! Is that too much to ask for? Really?"

Her adoptive father sighed wearily, bringing his hands back down to rest in his lap. It shouldn't be, really it shouldn't. But apparently for her, it was. He offered her no answer.

"Just let me fly around Burgess dad," she pleaded. "Please? I'm begging you! There are only so many books I can read before I start going stir-crazy! I need fresh air, I need sunlight! You might be a dark creature of the netherworld but I am not."

"You're such a drama queen," Pitch remarked, rolling his eyes. "Where on earth do you get it?"

She shrugged. "I learned from the best I guess." Meaning him, of course.

"Why you little-" Pitch dove across the bed, fingers poised for a dreaded tickle-attack and Meggie screeched like a hawk, diving for cover underneath her blankets. The Boogeyman smirked, clutching his heart in a dramatic display. "Agh, blankets! My one weakness! Thwarted by a comforter, how humiliating!"

The top of her purple head poked out, eyes blinking curiously behind strands of mussed hair. "Really?"

"No."

"Agh!"

What followed had to be the most childish display of horsing around- no pun intended -the Boogeyman had ever exhibited. The tray of food clattered to the ground and, as Pitch's fingers ran up Meggie ribs, enticing a wave of giggles to come pouring out, he mentally groaned. _I'll have to clean that up eventually. _

"Ack! Haha, stop! Get off!" Meggie gasped, thrashing and giggling like a toddler. At least he wasn't using the nightmare sand like last time.

"Are you going to stop badgering me about leaving the caves?" He inquired, completely straight-faced whilst still continuing to tickle her.

"Never!" She cried but the power of Pitch's tickling was too great. He reduced her to stitches in a matter of seconds until, when he backed off, she was left gasping and clutching her side.

Instantly, he reverted to the concerned parent again. "Are you alright? Was that too much?" But she was fine. A little winded, but fine.

After cleaning up the wanton breakfast mess, Pitch decided that it wouldn't be too bad an idea to let her walk around a bit. She was right about one thing, lying in bed wasn't going to make her stronger or better prepared to deal with the outside world. But he wasn't exactly thrilled about letting her fly around Burgess any more, even if she could.

"You know, it's been a long time since we just sat back and watched a movie." Pitch said slowly, sliding the mashed food into her garbage bin and settling back down on the bed. "Or TV. We could spend some quality time watching that Lights Out show you love so much. I'll make pop corn." He offered, hoping to distract her with food but her expression told him it wasn't going to happen.

"You always burn it." Meggie replied pointedly. "Besides, I've spent enough time relaxing. I'm so relaxed I feel like my butt's turning to cement! I want to go do stuff, Pitch! Even if it's little stuff. Ride the Nightmares, practice Changeing, learn some new tricks, something!"

In spite of himself, Pitch felt proud. She was most certainly a child of knowledge, and utterly fearless to boot. Ready to take on anything. _Hmm, maybe that is her creed._ Knowledge? Possibly. The thought was intriguing and made disturbing amount of sense. He would have to do some digging on that. Maybe talk with Athena.

"You're too weak to practice Changeling," he told her sternly. "And I can't, in good faith, let you leave the caves yet. At least not without me present." She instantly went to interrupt but Pitch raised a warning finger. "However, I have also been pretty neglectful in my duties as a trainer and guide of late, and since you're still healing it gives me the perfect opportunity to start instructing you in less physical aspects of spirit life."

He could tell she was curious, in spite of the little wrinkle between her eyebrows that denoted she was still cross with him. "Like what?"

"I'm not telling just yet. But I will make you a deal. If you agree to take it slow for a few more days, once I see that you're ready, I'll start teaching you some of my tricks. How does that sound?"

"I've got a better idea." She held her her fist, cupping it with her other palm. "Ever heard of Rock paper scissors?"

"I'm familiar with the concept." He replied dryly. "I take it you intend to stake your freedom on this game?"

"Yep. If you win, I'll do what you want. If I win, I get to do what I want." She replied, smirking. "Up to the challenge?"

He nodded, readying his hands. "Very well. On three?"

Meggie did the countdown and at the same time, they both threw down. Pitch chose paper, without really knowing why, but when Meggie revealed her hand it was in the shape of a gun.

"And what is this supposed to be?"

"A gun. Gun beats everything."

He sniffed at the opposing hand gesture. "I find that highly unfair. Best two out of three?"

She shrugged. "Fine, go for it." They threw down again, only this time Pitch used his nightmare sand to transform his hand into a miniature tank.

"Hey! You can't use a tank!" Meggie objected. "Foul! Unfair!"

"I do believe _this_ counts as the most powerful option of the game," Pitch replied smugly. "Or should I go fetch Jamie to settle this?" She was fuming. Her hair was starting to glow a brighter violet, almost red and he chuckled. "I'm not as totally detached from modern society as you and Onyx seem to think. However, I am a fair man. And since that game was pretty much rigged from the start, I will concede and let you run around the caves for a bit. Provided you take it slow and carefully." But he knew she wasn't listening.

Once the words 'run around the caves' left his mouth, she threw back the covers, trying to leap to her feet with a triumphant cry of "Alright!" Something made her stumble and she was propelled forward. She would've fallen flat on her face, if Pitch hadn't been there to stop her.

"Now do you understand why I'm so concerned about letting you run around again?" He demanded, setting her back on the bed and folding his arms. "This isn't a game, Meggie."

Her only response was grumbling, "I need to get my hands on a rabbit's foot." Under her breath. _What a character._ Pitch thought lovingly.

True to his word, shortly after impressing upon her how careful she needed to take this step in the healing, the Boogeyman did indeed lead her out of her room and into the living room. She instantly started to complain that she didn't want to see movies but a sharp look silenced her.

"I'm not going to make you sit though a movie," he told her calmly, leading her by the arm down the hall and into a small room off the hall. He had to insert a key to open it which was pulled from the seemingly unending depths of his robe, prompting Meggie to snicker.

"I swear, nothing you pull out of that thing could surprise me at this point." She said as the black key was turned, allowing them both entry. "You really need to tell me how that works. It doesn't even look like it has pockets!"

Pitch shrugged modestly, holding the door open for her while she tottered inside. "Perks of the job my dear. I took this from a sorcerer who was being plagued with nightmares as payment, after engaging with the wild horses that plagued his mind ripped my previous set of clothes to shreds. For some reason, the enchantment carried over to my other garments and before I knew it, presto."

"Really?"

"No."

She shot him a glare as they crossed the room which was littered with scraps of paper, books, beakers and bottles of cold fluid. _If I didn't know better, I'd say this was a mad scientist's lab. _

Pitch caught the look and smirked, leading her over to a bench where she sat. "Truth be told Meggie, I don't know how I'm able to fit things inside my robes." He admitted, turning towards the wooden bartop and beginning to rifle around through the chaos. "It's just one of those things that aren't supposed to be known. Now where did I put that book?"

"You mean the big green book sitting on the chair right next to you?"

He turned, glancing around for a moment before his eyes alighted on what she was pointing to. "Yes, that's the one!" With a cry of glee, Pitch swooped down and raised the book aloft, shaking the dust off mottled pages and opening it. "It's a healing tome, something I acquired after raiding the great library of Alexandria. Utterly useless as an artifact, since I don't wield that kind of magic, but there are some excellent potions here that help speed up the healing process." The look on Meggie's face alone was so bright it lit up the entirety of the room. He grinned, handing it to her. "Here."

Her eyes widened. "You're...you're giving it to me?"

Pitch nodded, grinning. This had been on his mind for a while now, even before the dip in the drink, and he was thrilled to have an excuse to give it to her now.

"Seriously? This isn't a prank?"

"Seriously." She still looked dubious, so he elaborated. "I recognize that some times people get hurt, dear. Even spirits, and especially curious ones with a determined streak like you." He ruffled her hair. "You're cocky and unafraid, and that can hurt as well as help you. In light of that, and the past few weeks, I've decided that if you think you can handle being outside the caves, then I won't stop you. But I won't take the responsibility of healing you any more either. That's something you need to start learning for yourself, which is why I brought you here."

"But dad, that's exactly-" The argument was already forming on her lips. Pitch chuckled, waiting for her brain to catch up to her mouth and when it actually registered, her eyes narrowed and he felt the unearthly urge to cackle. "Wait, what?"

He shrugged. "It's not in my nature to keep people, even people under my care, from doing what they want. Even if what they want endangers them on occasion. It's all a learning experience, regardless of the outcomes. Meggie," he looked her straight in the eye. "I learned a long time ago that in the spirit world, you can't put a price, or try to selfishly keep, knowledge. The knowledge and experience you get from your exploration is worth more than any battle or spell. It's how you integrate yourself into the world, and I would be a fool to try and keep that from you."

Meggie held his gaze the entire time he spoke, her eyes dangerously wet as if she was going to start crying. He forged on, smiling tenderly at her.

"You've got a great power behind you, and it may take time to understand and fully comprehend it. And that's perfectly acceptable. In the meantime, focus on other things. Besides, I already mastered all the potions in there eons ago, and it's high time the book was put to better use than just _sitting_ in here. By giving you this book and this key," here he handed her the key. "I hereby give you permission to use this room as your own alchemy chamber. I only ask that you clean up after yourself, and that anything you create you wait to test until I can be here to observe. Alright?"

Meggie let out a cry of delight, throwing her arms around him. "Yes! Yes! Best present ever!"

"I thought it only fitting, considering how danger-prone you are." He replied smugly, earning a swipe across the shoulder.

"Thanks dad." Meggie rolled her eyes but really, it was touching to see how much he actually paid attention to what she needed and wanted. She didn't want to be smothered, and she didn't need to be babied; She needed freedom and this was the absolute closest the Changeling could get. And, in spite of his father wanting to protect her, he was allowing her this piece of awesomeness that pretty well benefited everybody. "So...do I just pick something and go for it?" She asked, holding the book up uncertainly.

He nodded. "Go hog-wild. This is all yours now Meggie, to do with as you see fit. You get the fun, but you also get the responsibility. Blow anything up and it's up to you to replace it. As for the potions themselves," here Pitch glanced at the massive tome in her hands. "I suggest doing a bit of reading before you try anything too complex."

Fair enough. "What kind of alchemy is this book on anyway?" She asked, flipping through the pages while he watched, amused. "Gold transmutation? Potions and healing gook? Witches' Brews? Am I going to have to wear a black hat and sing _double double toil and trouble?"_

Pitch raised an eyebrow. "I have half a mind to take it all back, just for that." He told her with mock severity and a smile playing around his lips. "I mean really, what do you take me for?"

She knew better than to answer that and, with a smirk, Meggie set about cleaning up her new lab and setting everything back in its' place. Pitch watched with mild amusement, thinking, _her room never looks this clean._

"Hey Pitch, maybe I can find something to cure your Marfan Syndrome!" Meggie called, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Pitch looked up from reading the label on an old potion. "My what?"

"Oh, I saw it on a medical show with Onyx a while back. It's an affliction that causes your arms and legs to grow super long."

Pitch rolled his eyes. "Meggie, for the last time, my body is just naturally this way. I do not have Marfan Syndrome."

"Uh-huh, sure."

Once the lab had been semi-picked up, at least to where nothing was on the ground and the bar-styled table that stretched from one end of the room to the other was clear of anything but the book and a few scattered beakers, Meggie took the next and sat back down to read.

"If you're going to just be reading, I'd like to go make something to eat." Pitch said after a moments' watching her in silence.

She nodded and murmured a vague "Mmhmm." nose still buried in the book. Smirking, he left her to her own devices. And that was where she stayed for a good long while, even after Pitch suggested she go back to her room and get some sleep. But Meggie refused, saying that she had too much she wanted to try out and how she wasn't even tired.

"Alright, fine. Suit yourself." He agreed to let her stay up, on the condition that she only read and not try any experimentation while he was asleep. She agreed and, for the next couple of days Meggie holed herself up in that room, working through the book and trying to make sense of the complex formulas. Pitch helped her as best he could, but his knowledge on alchemical matters was limited at best.

He discovered she was still keeping up on her journal after the fourth night where he found her dozing in her armchair, balancing both books on her lap and fruitlessly trying to stay awake. Gently, he took the books and laid them on her table, quieted her when she started to protest with a kiss on the forehead and went to fetch a blanket. By the time he returned, she was already out cold.

Pitch was about to leave her and go get some more sleep himself, hopefully with Tooth as she should be back by now, but seeing her journal made him curious and he decided, purely because he was a concerned father, to sneak a peek.

_Entry I have no mothereffing clue, I really shouldn't even be bothering at this point. You know who I am, you know what this is. What you don't know, because I've been almost completely unconscious for the past two weeks, is that I'm suffering from another bout of memory-loss, this time due to picking a fight with a pack of Pyreans and possibly Changeing into a wolf. Yippie. Like my life couldn't get any more complicated. _

_On a positive note, Tooth and Pitch are treating me like a goddess and I'm getting all the food and pampering I can take. It's nice, since my body does feel like its insides are on fire most of the time. But it's getting better. I know it's just the after-effects of Changeing, but they don't. I haven't let them in on that little aspect of my powers yet and I don't bloody intend to. Pitch worries enough about me as it is, I can't have him running after me like a scared chicken every time I go to Change. _

_I really need to start practicing again. Doing the basic exercises, like Cupcake taught me. But it's been so long, I hardly remember any of them. _

_In any case, I'm being treated like a queen. Completely. Shut up in a room, stuck in my bed, unable to hardly walk because I get instantly tired. I wish I could Change my insides so that they were stronger. That would make things sooo much easier. But I'm not nearly strong enough for that yet, and I still haven't come up with a trigger for my Changes, apart from long hours of concentration or, in the case of the she-hulk, getting scared shitless by Pitch._

Pitch, whose eyes had been steadily widening the more he read, winced. What in the seven hells was wrong with him?! Just when he thought he was actually doing some good to help Meggie, this shows up. Figures.

He read a little bit more, bracing himself for woe-is-me lamentations of the sort she was so fond of, where he was sure actual pain lurked beneath the self-pity. But it was not so. Apparently, Meggie had evolved somewhat in her character in the past months. At least enough to where she didn't actually seem to have that self-pitying streak any more. Now it was more like she was having a conversation with herself, debating and questioning, rather than whining. Instead, he found something a bit more concerning.

_I figured out who she is. My savior, the angel. Through hours of painstaking work and a lot of chatting with other spirits through Faebook, I have discovered that her name is Lilliana. But really, that's all I know about her. I need to find her, and the horse is going to help me if she knows what's good for her. Pitch won't even know I'm gone. _

_She makes her home in Buckingham Palace, which is too far for me to fly on my own. Not that I'm up to it these days anyway. The pain gets better daily, the more I'm up and about. I'm trying hard but this damn shortness of breath is killing me from the inside out! _

_I think my lungs are still that of a wolf's, which means I'm reverting. Just like the time I Changed into Cupcake. My innards stayed the same as hers while my outside body looked like mine. I just hope it doesn't hurt as much this time. _

_I did make it, after pretty much blackmailing Onyx to get me there and back in time. I didn't see her but I left a note, giving myself plenty of time to heal before I meet with her. I plan on checking back every few days, if Dad's schedule will allow, and hoping that our time and space match again. Really, all I want to do is thank her. She saved my life and I didn't even get a chance to learn her name until now. I'm sure dad won't mind. _

_Dad_ did mind quite a bit actually. In fact, the second he read the name _Lilliana_ his breath hitched in his throat and the book almost tumbled from his fingertips. His mind crackled with the horrific, and worrying possibilities. Why hadn't he made that connection before? The wings alone should've been clue enough. But then again, no one in the spirit realm had seen the black angel for a good hundred years. She wasn't exactly a riot at parties.

_But why, in the name of the gods, would she save my Meggie?! What purpose could it have served? _Meggie had been hurt pretty bad, from what Tooth had been able to tell. Was she a meal ticket for the angel? An easy source of power so that she didn't have to go swooping around, searching for it? "_No_," he whispered. "_That can't be it._" What then?

Meggie stirred in her chair but she didn't wake, so Pitch decided to vacate the room and think somewhere else. He set the notebook back, not even bothering to close it before heading out. All the way down the corridor as he headed back to his room, he muddled over the increasingly confusing situation.

_If Lilliana really did save Meggie from the Pyreans, then I owe her a debt as much as Meggie does. _But he was still having issues as to _why_ she would do such a thing.

The Angel of Pain, as she was known to most of the spirit world, was one of the more obscure members of their little race. She was what some called a second generation spirit, and what others called an abomination. Namely, she'd been taken as a human and given her spirithood by someone other than one of the Prime spirits. Like him, she was an outcast and a pariah amongst her own kind. Except that he wasn't quite sure why. Something about hurricanes came to mind.

Pitch had never actually seen her face to face, which was most likely why he hadn't recognized her, but from the whispers and tales he thought she was a monster. In fact, he was pretty sure he had tried to recruit her for his early campaign against the Guardians but had never been able to find her. Well, now he knew why.

"Because she lives all the way across the world," he muttered, smirking a little bit. "Me, her creator and Meggie are probably the only people in the world who know where she lives."

And what good did that do them?

Pitch's bedroom door was coming up on the left and he opened it to find emptiness and dark. Tooth wasn't there. Just as well, really. He had too much on his mind to fall asleep now. _What am I going to do about Meggie and this girl? _She needed a friend, that was for sure. Someone to confide in, someone _other_ than him or Tooth or the horses. Pitch groaned, knowing it was the truth. "But does it have to be _her?_"

Stories about the Black Angel had circulated amongst the spirits of the realm's dark underbelly for decades. Tales of destruction and chaos, of murder and pain. A sad irony that a spirit who was meant to relieve suffering ended up the bringer of so much of it. Then again, wasn't his story almost the exact same?

"Maybe I should give this Lilliana a chance," he murmured, kicking off his clothes and climbing into bed. Although he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. "Yes, let Meggie see for herself and judge her on what she sees, not what others saw." _I'm sure the angel will thank me for that. It's only fair, after all. _

And Pitch Black was nothing if not a believer in second-chances.

XXXXXXXX

Lilliana was awoken by her friend as requested, when the sun went down and spent the next few nights roaming the states, combing each city for its strongest pockets of pain. The mundane things- relationship heartbreaks, losing possessions, skinned knees, those she let slip by. They were part of the meager commonwealth needed to keep life amongst the humans lively and less boring. But the strong pain, both physical and emotional, was hers to collect and store safely away in that little box around her neck.

Four nights passed in the exact same way; Lilly slept the day away, only to come alive in a slightly less bitchy manner than was normal when Bianca nudged her lightly with her boot.

Now, normally Lilly would've ripped anyone who dared to wake her like that a new one. But Bianca had protection. She was smart and did it with a cup of Death Wish coffee in hand, which instantly negated all hostile effects and, once she snatched the cup and inhaled a good strong whiff, turned the fearsome Angel of Pain into a fluffy little winged kitten.

"Gods I've missed this stuff," she groaned, burying her nose into the rich aroma that sent shivers of delight up her spine. "All they drink over there is tea, tea, tea! I have to fly all the way to Turkey to get even _decent_ coffee!"

Bianca smirked, raising her own cup to her lips. "Salute."

Lilly joined her happily in the toast and gulped down about half before re-emerging from the depths of her cup and smiling. "Mmm, oh whole ground coffee beans, how I've missed you!"

"I've got chocolate-covered ones in the back." Bianca smirked as Lilly dove for the stairs. "They're in a locked cupboard, just so you know!"

Muffled swearing and subsequent whining for help followed and Bianca couldn't help but chuckle as she descended the stairs. _Yep, same old Lilly._

After whipping up a magical breakfast of American-style Pancakes, sausage, bacon and eggs, despite it being nearly six o'clock at night, Bianca said that she needed to run some errands and asked that Lilly lock up the shop when she was ready to leave.

Tossing her the key as she passed through the hallway, Bianca reached for her traveling cloak and fastened it around her neck carefully.

"'oosing ur broom?" Lilly teased through bulging cheeks while still trying to shovel more food down her gullet. Greasy spoon cooking was a rarity across the pond and she wanted to get as much in as possible before she left for home.

"Haha, a witch joke. Very sophisticated." The Mage deadpanned, pulling on a pair of thick hide boots. "Chew your food before you speak please, it's vulgar to talk with your mouth full. No, I'm going to take the bus. But it gets cold this time of year and I _hate_ the cold."

Lilly swallowed a mighty ball of eggs and bacon, frowning curiously at her friend who had finished tying her boots and was now lifting the hood up over her face. "I thought you were an elemental magician? Aren't they supposed to worship all the elements and command then equally, or something like that?"

When Bianca turned back around to face her, only her glittering eyes could be seen. When she spoke, her voice was cool and deep, like an echo from beneath that cavernous hood."I bend the elements to my will, use my power to urge nature itself, and harness the raw might of the world as my own." Then she smirked. "But I still hate the cold." And with that, she turned on her heel and strode out the front door which clanged shut behind her.

Lilly sat down again, rolling her eyes and continued her food. _Mages_, drama queens the lot of them.

She finished her food and, after setting the dishes in the sink and filling up her own personal black thermos with coffee, she locked up the shop and headed out into the night. There was a moon out, not full, but a sliver hanging in the sky, shining down upon the people who were still milling about. Victoria, the peaceful city.

Lilly had been slowly working her way across the U.S for the past four nights, sweeping them in the grid pattern she preferred to use when scanning large areas. The box around her neck acted as a homing beacon, the stone glowing bright as she got closer to a major source of pain.

"Time to hit the east coast," Lilly muttered, banking left to avoid a flock of birds. That was her last set of stops before heading home. New York, Maine, Jersey, Pennsylvania, all of it. Scanned, alleviated and peaceful. At least, that's what she hoped. A relatively stress-free night was literally the best she could ask for, and as she flew over the first few states and felt hardly anything, Lilly actually thought she might get it.

And then she got to Pennsylvania.

By this time, the angel had almost forgotten all about the eerie note and had completely forgotten where it was she was supposed to be meeting the shapeshifter, but all the same as she circled over one of the many forests she felt a slight wave of uneasiness creeping over her shoulders.

Lilly stopped in mid-air above a clearing. _Hmm, my feathers are raised, it's quiet as the grave and I have a weird tickling sensation on the back of my neck. Something is about to go down._

And then it happened. Like a bolt from the blue, something violet streaked past her, whooping and screaming in a mix of terror and...delight? Lilly could just barely make out a female's voice as the thing sped past her, not close enough to knock her out of the sky but certainly close enough to clip her wing.

Lilly let out a grunt of pain and sank about ten feet before catching herself with some healthy swearing added in. "What in the seven hells was that?!" She growled, swiveling to try and see where the thing, whatever it was, had landed. Nothing, nothing, nothing-

"Hi there."

"Fuck me running!" Lilly almost fell out of the sky for the second time that night. In a flash, her knives were in her hands and pointed in the direction of her assailant. Always the observant warrior, Lilly took barely a microsecond to digest all the information about the being before her. She was floating in mid air, apparently unaided by wings or wind, wearing a smile of pure delight plastered over her face. Purple hair hung in slightly knotted chords around her face and shoulders, framing bright green eyes and a round, plump visage.

Purple hair... _wait a minute!_

"You!" She cried, subsequently at the exact same time as the girl did. The girl's grin grew wider.

"You came! You actually came!" She reached out both arms from beneath a violet cloak that was disturbingly like Bianca's. Lilly backed up, still holding her daggers aloft.

"Stay back!" She warned. "I don't want to hurt you, kid."

The girl's arms fell to her sides and the smile faltered. "But... I don't understand. Why-"

She was starting to close in again and Lilly flapped her wings once, putting a good healthy distance of five feet between them. Her exterior might've appeared calm, but inside she was having trouble breathing. _OK, it's OK, breathe. Game face. Gotta get my game face on. _This wasn't right. This wasn't right at all. Why was she so nervous? _Because I let my guard down around her, and I don't know what she remembers or what she saw._ And that scared her, because it gave this mysterious wolf shapeshifter power over her. And that was something she could _not_ abide.

So she pushed on through, calming herself with a few careful breaths and summoning a fierce scowl that she hoped was enough to make her go away."I'm telling you, _stay back._ You're lucky I didn't gut you like a fish before, but if you keep coming at me I won't hesitate."

Thankfully, she seemed to get the message. "OK, OK. I'm not moving. I'm...not...moving."

Lilly raised an eyebrow but didn't lower her knives. Not yet, not until she was sure this girl wasn't a threat. "Do you always repeat everything you say?" Said with the usual cutting sarcasm. It didn't phase her.

A small smile stole across her lips. "No. I just want to make sure you heard me."

_Oooh, she's good. _And maybe not an actual threat? Lilly looked her up and down, trying to gauge what kind of a threat she might pose but came up almost empty._ I'm a trained assassin with the power of pain behind me, _she reasoned. _She couldn't even heal herself. What's she gonna do, sit on me?_

"Are you just gonna stare at me all night?" The girl asked, smirking. "Not that I mind, but you have to treat me to dinner later."

Lilly cackled. _Alright alright, enough thinking about it. Or else I'm gonna get another migraine. _Ignoring all the anxiety and fear, Lilly slowly put her knives away and fell back into a languid, relaxed stance. The wind was still, stirred only by the occasional flap needed to keep her aloft. "I guess the spitfire wasn't just part of the mutt, huh kiddo?"

The other spirit looked momentarily confused. "Mutt? I don't... Oh, wait, you mean my wolf-form! Right! Actually, that's something I was hoping to talk to you about! You may have noticed but I'm not actually a wolf any more. I'm a-"

"Shapeshifter." Lilly almost cackled again at the gobsmacked look on the girl's face. "Yes Ammy, I know. I found you naked on my floor, remember?" _Not the prettiest sight in the world...even with that flowing purple hair..._

A bright blush started to creep into her cheeks and she opened her mouth, probably to either protest such a preposterous thing had ever happened or to summon up a really pathetic excuse, but when she actually did speak it threw Lilly for a really big loop. "Ammy?"

It was Lilly's turn to blush. _Shiiit_. "That's...the name I gave you. As a wolf, I mean. That's what I called you. I mean I couldn't think of anything else and you seemed to really like the video game character so I just..." Lilly trailed off, shrugging uncertainly. _Stupid, stupid. Why did I tell her that?_

"You...you had a name for me?" Her eyes were wide, but not with shock. "That's...so awesome! I love it! My name's Meggie, actually. And yours is Lilly, right? I'm very pleased to meet you!" She stuck out her hand and, instinctively, Lilly flinched. Meggie's expression faltered. "Are...are you OK?"

"I'm fine!" She snapped, pinning her own arms against her sides. The fear was back, clutching her heart like a vise. And the anger. She didn't trust herself, or this Meggie. Maybe she had trusted the wolf, but not this girl. This...thing. "Now leave me alone! I've got a job to do- wait what the hell are you doing?!" While she'd been talking, Meggie had snuck around behind her and was casually looking through her hair.

"I'm looking for your halo." She answered, trailing deftly along behind her as Lilly tried to pull away. "What kind of angel are you anyway? You've only got two wings, so you can't be a Seraphin. Are you an archangel?"

Once she managed to untangle herself from the inquisitive Shape-shifter, Lilly took a few steps back and glared at Meggie. "Jeezus kid, haven't you ever heard of personal space? And I'm not an angel!"

"Sure you are!" Meggie chirped, grinning at her as if she were a mistaken school-girl. "I mean, admittedly I haven't seen any angels in the flesh before, but I've read about them! So I know what I'm talking about." The other girl looked her up and down with an uncomfortably close scrutiny. "Even if you don't have a harp or a white dress."

"I don't fucking wear white," Lilly told the girl who was treading on very very thin ice through gritted teeth. "It makes me look dead. Well," she amended. "Dead-_er_. And I'm not a real angel dammit! I've just got wings."

Meggie smirked. "What did you do then, drink a lot of redbull? 'cause I'm pretty sure humans don't just grow wings."

What was this, spirit pun-night?! And even if it was, she was being beaten! Not OK, not even _remotely!_ Lilly raised a threatening finger. "Alright you, one more angel crack and I swear to the almighty power of the void-"

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" Meggie wondered aloud. The worst part was, she said it with a completely straight face.

That's it! Time to pull out the big guns! "Bitch please, I crawled my way out of the fiery pits of hell!" There, maybe _that_ would scare her enough to make her go the hell away.

Nope. Her eyes widened and the and intimidation from before was gone in a puff of hyperactive smoke. "Really? Wow, you must've really wanted out. That makes you a fallen angel! Awesome, even better! I like warmer climates myself. Can I touch your wings?"

"What- NO!" Lilly saw her hands move before anything and she did practically a somersault in mid-air to avoid them. Alright, time to get the hell out of here! She bolted for the east but the crazy Shape-shifter followed! Racing after her on the wind, calling out as Lilly bobbed and wove in between the trees.

"Come on, don't go! I just want to touch them!"

Lilly felt a hand wrap around her ankle and instantly went into a barrel roll, tucking her wings in tight against her back and spinning in the night sky like a crocodile in a frankly pathetic effort to shake her. "That sounds so wrong," she yelled back. "Now get the hell off me!"

But the girl clung on resolutely. What the fuck, are her fingers glued on?! Lilly stopped in mid-roll and bolted for a river, hoping to drop low enough for Meggie to go for a swim. Then she would have to let go! But before she could even reach the outskirts of town, Meggie's hand- probably trying to get a better grip, scratched the edge of her right wing and made a few feathers come loose.

Lilly came to a screeching halt about ten feet from the ground, whipped around and grabbed Meggie by the bright purple hair. She cried out but Lilly, whose wing was throbbing, only shook her violently.

"Don't...fucking...touch me. _Ever_. And _especially_ don't touch my fucking wings. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" Seeking to impress her point, Lilly drew her favorite hunting knife and held it against her throat. "I asked you, do you understand?"

She looked utterly terrified, like a mouse that was nose-to nose with a particularly vicious cat. As if she actually thought Lilly would gut her. Her dark emerald eyes were wide, and her face was almost completely void of color. Good. Maybe I was time she learned exactly who she was dealing with.

Finally, a shaky voice answered her. "I...understand."

"Good." The angel withdrew the knife and slipped it back in its' sheath and shifted her grip from Meggie's hair to the back of her neck, pinching it like a cat. "I'm going to set you down now. Don't try anything like that again, or next time you're losing fingers."

She looked like she was about to cry. Lilly felt a rush of guilt, tempered by enormous satisfaction. It was good she was scared. _She_ wasn't the one who had pinfeathers yanked out. But Lilly let her down all the same, sinking to about a foot from the ground and releasing her.

She sank like a sack of potatoes and lay curled up on the ground, huddling against her self while she stared up at the angel anxiously, waiting for what was going to happen next. Tears were streaming down her face, marring and blotching the beautiful features.

_Damn my soft fucking heart to oblivion, _Lilly thought as she watched Meggie's shoulder shaking. There was a tiny, minuscule trickle of pain leaking from her body. She could see it, threading around her being like a spool. Soft lavender and sliver-thin, but there. The rich scent of bitter almonds filled the night and Lilly rolled her shoulders, trying not to enjoy it. The scent of pain was almost as intoxicating as all the other scents she enjoyed. Black coffee, Chocolate and clean clothes. Pizza, the crispness of soda, and the aroma of expensive potpourri were all second to the wonderful, terrible scent of pain.

Sighing, the dark angel alighted on the ground beside the other spirit and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Hey."

Meggie jumped. Not that she could blame the kid. "I'm sorry!" She squeaked and Lilly noticed she cringed each time the hand on her shoulder moved. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you I know it was wrong! Please don't hurt me!"

_Fuck. __**Now**__ what? _"I'm not going to hurt you," Lilly assured her, releasing her shoulder. "Even though by all rights I should. Technically I should chop off some of your fingers. That could make us even." _Fuck. Not_ the right thing to say. Her eyes grew even wider and Lilly hastily continued, "But I would never do that. I'm not an evil spirit."_ Like she should fucking believe me now. Fuck!_

Meggie held her gaze for a moment, then reached up and wiped her eyes with a quiet cough. Lilly released a quiet breath of air. Whew. Small crisis averted. But what to do now?

Sighing and rubbing her temples, the dark angel knew there was only one way to get rid of her. And once that was done, she would fly back to Bianca's, pour herself a nice bottle of hot sake and Mountain Dew and hopefully drown herself to take the stress away. "You want answers? You want to know what happened while you were a wolf?"

She nodded hesitantly.

"Fine. I found you, burned and bleeding on the forest floor. There was a Dryad next to you and, after putting out the flames, I got her to safety."

Apparently sensing it was safe to stand up, the shape-shifter did so. "Why didn't you leave me there after you put the fire out?"

Lilly felt her blood rising at the audacity of the question. "What kind of monster do you think I am? Do you really think so little of me that I would just leave a helpless wolf to die in the middle of the forest?!" Honestly, her reputation was bad but it wasn't THAT bad.

The girl flinched and Lilly instantly felt guilty. _Nice fucking going, now she's scared again!_

"Well, I didn't. I _couldn't_. So I picked you up- you're bloody heavy by the way," she added, glaring with mock-severity at her. "And brought you back to my home. I fixed you up, let you heal, waited until I thought you were ready and I was going to find a nice wilderness for you to roam in." She shot Meggie a sardonic look. "Then you changed and blew all _that_ out of the water."

"Hehe." The grin was back and...somehow...Lilly felt a little bit better. "So, what did I look like as a wolf?"

"You don't remember?" That seemed... wrong somehow. "What kind of shape-shifter doesn't know what they look like?"

She meant it as a joke but, as soon as the words left her lips, any traces of humor or good will were gone, leaving only shame. It took a second, but once the angel looked a bit closer, closing the distance between them until she could see the tiny cracks and crevices in her plump face. _She's young,_ Lilly realized. _Really young. That's why she doesn't know... she's too young to have found out. Welp, time for me to play the generous angel._

"You were pure white, but had some really beautiful purple markings. Swirls and bursts of flame, and some on your face and muzzle." It was relatively satisfying to see her expression change in the blink of an eye from super depressed to bright eyed. _And apparently bright-haired too. _She thought, smirking as the long locks trailing around her face shimmered between lavender to orange to an in-between hue that reminded her of a sunset on the open sea.

"Did it...did it look cool?"

_Oh my fucking gods she's blushing. _"Very." Lilly informed her. "Mucho coolness."

"Awesome. I can't wait to try it again!" Meggie did a little dance of celebration, grinning and shaking her hands like maracas.

Lilly raised an eyebrow. OK, she had to ask. "How fucking old are you, kid? Like seriously, for someone who can take on a gang of Pyreans, you seem pretty inexperienced with this whole magical being thing."

Meggie thought about it for a second. "What month is it?"

Her eyebrows rose a fraction farther. "Umm...May?"

"Nine months."

Lilly's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "You've only been alive for nine months?!" How high her voice got actually made her wince. "What the fuck I didn't think _anything_ aged that fast!"

"I didn't age that fast, you weirdo." Meggie laughed. "Dad told me that I was a human and something turned me into a spirit. We're not quite sure what, but something. I woke up a few months ago, met some people, got roped in with the Boogeyman and sort of got adopted by him."

As if shit couldn't get any more complicated. "The Boogeyman huh?" It took every ounce of control she had over herself not to appear anxious. "Is he still..."

"Hellbent on destroying everything good and light in the world?"

She nodded.

"No. I don't know all the details but something happened a year or so ago and he became one of the good guys. Joined up with the Guardians, I'm not sure if you know them or not."

"I do." Nothing more needed to be said on the manner.

She shrugged and thankfully didn't question the short answer. "OK. Well, from what I know, which isn't much mind you, he became part of their family and started dating the Tooth Fairy, but he doesn't want them to know about me until I'm strong enough to handle myself and my powers. Like I said I am totally new at this and I've had a fair few meltdowns and screw-ups, the most recent of which is the wolf thing."

Ahh, now Lilly understood. "You lost control after the fight and transformed without meaning to, huh?"

"Pretty much." Meggie smiled. "But I'm getting better every day! And honestly, I don't think I would've lived past that night if you hadn't saved me. I owe you my life."

"Don't mention it. Like seriously, don't mention it. I just did what any other spirit would do." Not strictly true, and the girl didn't seem to believe her.

She folded her arms, smiling. "But no other spirits did it. You did it. And because you saved my life I owe you. Add in the fact that I just pulled out a few of your pinfeathers and I'm pretty sure you're not going to be getting rid of me for a while until I repay you."

_Uh-oh. Shit! Rewind!_ "Now, hold on kiddo." Lilly raised both hands, shaking her head. "I didn't slit your throat, that doesn't make us besties. As far as I'm concerned, you're just a random shape-shifter that just showed up on my doorstep and that's it. Now, I told you what you need to know, and it's almost light. I've still got the rest of this coast to deal with, and you should be getting back to your Boogeyman."

"But-"

"Kid, it's late. Seriously. I need to go. You know where I live but I don't recommend showing up unannounced or unexpected. I have a tendency to throw people out of windows." Lilly looked up. Night was indeed waning. The stars were glowing dim and the moon was completely gone. "Now, if you'll excuse me." Her wings were aching again, and tendrils of pain were already beginning to rise up her back. She needed to go, now.

Meggie watched the angel's majestic wings sweep the ground, then propel her up into the clouds. "How do I tell you I'm coming over?" She hollered after her. The response she received was a little more disheartening than what she expected.

"You don't."

And then she was gone, into the great blue-now-slowly-turning-orange-red-and-yellow yonder, leaving the slightly confused and very sad Changeling standing in the still and silence while her adoptive father, who had been lurking in the shadows the entire time, keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings, prepared himself to deal with the emotional fallout.


	27. If I Only Had A Flamethrower

**Hello mortals! Please please forgive me for my extended absence I have been sick since winter vacation started but now I am back and with fantastic news! I HAVE FINISHED MY NOVEL! Yes indeed, the novel is finished and now I'm starting up the publishing process and working on the sequel! Which, coupled together with school, will make my workload even crazier but I will attempt to manage.**

**Thank you all for so much support I'm sorry I've been dead to fanfiction for the past few months and I cannot promise I'll be able to keep updating. I love this story and I want to finish it but it's the process of actually writing the chapters that really kill me. I might just bequeath it and everything about it to another writer who will love it like I have. **

**If anyone's interested, let me know. Otherwise I might have to let this fic die without fully finishing it. It really was meant to be a trilogy, but what with time and effort I just haven't been wanting to work on it lately and now I'm not so sure I'll ever be able to finish it... **

**Still, I appreciate all the wonderful words of encouragement and love and the dedicated readers. I love you all and I've missed you so much. **

* * *

"Dad... I need to tell you something." _No, too ominous. Too dramatic_. "Dad we need to talk. This is important." _Worse_. "Hey Pitch, I just wanted to-" _No, informal as all hell and inapprops._

I kicked the dresser and swore as the pain- which, for the record, I KNEW was going to start flowing up my leg if I kicked that dresser, but I did it anyway because I'm a childish little twit, started to rise up from the point of impact. "Dammit! Uuugh, I'm never gonna be able to tell him what happened! I might as well just keep this embarrassment to myself!"

But then, what would she do if Lilly came poking around asking for her?

I was facing my mirror, scowling. "Not that she will, not after _that_ catastrophe. I'll be lucky if she ever talks to me again!" I knew I sounded bitter and I was! At myself. I let my excitement get the better of me and I acted like a squirrel on crack. _Nothing_ had gone as planned tonight. Absolutely nothing! After days of planning, careful rehearsals and a butt-ton of work, it had all come crashing down around my violet head.

I'd finally met with the angel, but it hadn't been anything like I'd expected. Lilly had shown me nothing but contempt and disdain, had no interest in pursuing a friendship and probably would be happiest if she never laid eyes on me again. And I didn't blame her.

_Honestly. What on earth made me think touching her wings was a good idea?! _I wondered as I sank back down into my bed. _They were indeed pretty, but how would I act if some weirdo tried to touch my hair or something? Probably the same, huh?_

And Pitch. What the hell was she going to do about Pitch? He was bound to have noticed her absence. Another scowl crossed my features. _He's charted my every move since I could walk again, so__** of course **__he saw me leave_.

"UUUGH! I can't deal with this right now!" I hit the pillow desperately, beating a continuous rhythm into my poor, abused pillow. "I want OUT!" _Whack! _"I want AWAY!" _Whack!_ "I want a BREAK!" _Whack!_ "I want to go somewhere else, somewhere I don't have people looking over my damn shoulder every second!" _Whack whack whack!_ "Uuuugh...!"

_Child, relax! You're going to worry yourself sick!_

I rolled into my back, staring up at the ceiling as the warm, soothing voice flooded my ears. "Pretty much too late for that."

_No, it's not! Not if you listen to me and stop stressing about things you can't change or control. If this...Lilly...chooses not to befriend you then that's her prerogative. All you can do it respect her decision and move on. You'll find new friends eventually._

"This isn't about finding friends!" I told her testily, even though it was. "This is about me! I blew it! I was a complete and total ass and I blew it! And what's worse, now I have to admit that to dad and face whatever punishment he thinks up for leaving the caves without his permission!"

_Please, Pitch only wants what's best for you. He'll understand._

I glanced at the only window in the entire cave system to look out on the sky. It was burning orange and gold, the tell-tale signs of a soon sun-up. Which meant he would be coming to get me for training soon. "Yeah...maybe."

In spite of my anxiety, I did agree with the voice and tried my best to stop over-thinking. She was right, it hadn't won me anything in the past and usually just brought on an even bigger headache than my usual fare. Instead, I closed my eyes and tried to relax. Darkness flooded in on my like an old friend, clouding my gaze and descending me into sweet, blissful silence. It was like the darkness washed away any sound or outside interference, leaving me still in the blackness.

_Ahh yes, that's nice. I could spend an eternity like this..._

The bed was soft, my mind was at least partially as ease, and by all rights I had nothing keeping me from a peaceful cat-nap. No rules, no restraints. Nothing but the annoying golden glow that cut through the din of black to keep me from a nice, restful morning.

_Golden glow. Must be one of my candles._ I cracked open one eye, expecting to see one of the dozen or so squat lavender balls of wax I had scattered about the room burning gently away on my bedside table and was shocked to see that it wasn't a candle at all.

Several thoughts sped through my mind as I gazed, transfixed by the tendrils of golden lettering leaking from between the pages, at my black book. _Oh shit, what did I do now?! _Was among them, as were _why the hell does this thing keep doing this? Where is it gonna take me now? Will it stop glowing if I just leave it alone because I'm NOT in the mood to go traipsing all across farmland again until this thing spits me back out!_

Of course, I didn't have answers for any of these questions. Which made thinking them pretty damn redundant if I do say so myself.

From my past experiences with this book, I've learned a few things. A, it has a mind of its own and is able to summon stories at will. B, it's bloody dangerous and was almost responsible for me being beaten to death by a rake by a little person known as a hobbit. And C, I reaaaally wanted to take it for another spin.

_So why don't you?_

"Because I don't know what the hell I'm going to find in there!" I told the voice. "The last time it was little people, this time it could be aliens or demons!"

_You aren't going to get sucked in by opening it, _the voice tutted. _You had to read it aloud, remember? And besides, weren't you just whining about wanting to get out for a while? Go somewhere new? Maybe this is the answer to your problems._

I was still watching the book nervously, waiting for it to leap off the shelves and devour me but the truth was, I had been itching to try that thing out again. True, the last adventure had only lasted a few minutes, during which I was threatened with rakes and pumpkins before being sucked back to the real world, but it had been fun none-the-less.

According to Jamie, who had a lot to say on the subject for a twelve-year-old and found my book endlessly fascinating, it was some sort of teleportation system. But it didn't teleport to real places, at least not that I'd found. And it didn't work for everyone. Just me, it seemed. Of course I hadn't messed with it in forever, being the scatter-brained person I am and also being insanely busy and preoccupied with everything else that had been going on. So I had neglected to bother with it.

"Welp, there's a time for everything I guess!" I said happily, picking the book up off it's shelf. _I swear, this thing seems to know when I need it. Like, that's kinda creepy._

But creepy or not, I wanted to see what new adventures this thing would take me on. And so I opened it.

The text style difference was, of course, the first thing I noticed. Instead of the dark black, proper-looking arches and straight lined I's of the previous book, this text started off with a massive letter T, followed by the rest of the word and subsequent sentences. And the text wasn't nearly as dark. The paper was different too. More waxy and pale, thicker and with a strange rustle as the pages moves in an unseen wind.

I peered at the words. _The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid. "Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors._

"Huh. Interesting." No way this was the beginning of a book. The page said chapter seven at the top. "But why...? Oh it doesn't matter. If it gets me away from here for a few minutes it's good enough for me!" I started reading the rest.

"_They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right -the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously. "Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. _Ah!"

There it was, the tingling in my fingers. The roaring in my ears as the magic of the book took hold of me. I grinned. "Yes, dear Hades get me the hell out of here!"

The book obeyed, engulfing me in radiant golden light and I had just enough time to grab my cloak before I felt a tugging on my feet and the world around my bedroom began to fall away. _Sorry dad, I'll be back later! I hope..._

I must say, the landing was much better this time than my previous one. Instead of falling face-first into a patch of begonias, I fell face-first into a patch of rich, wet, green grass.

"Oh how I long for the day when I don't fall face-first everywhere I go." I grumbled, pushing myself up from the lawn of wherever the hell I'd fallen.

As I drew away, the rich scent of fresh air and dew filled my nostrils and I had to inhale. It was such a wondrous scent. Nothing like the smoggy, stagnant air of living underground or the petrol-filled aroma of the city. This was mountain air; clean, fresh and full of life! It didn't take long to find out where I was. Of course the massive castle looming out of the darkness provided about 90% of clues, with its hundreds of glittering windows and the tall spires and turrets.

Hogwarts. I was standing on the front grounds of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.

"Huh. This is...nifty."

XXXXXXXXXX

_Pitch? Do you think she's doing alright?_

The boogeyman casually flipped the page, scanning long sheets of exquisitely-designed text before moving on to the next page.

_Pitch? Pitch are you listening to me? Pitch! Come on, this is serious! I want you to listen to me! What if she's gotten herself into trouble again?_

He didn't even look up from his book but she could hear the disinterest in his tone. "She hasn't left her room, Onyx. What trouble could she have possibly gotten into?"

_I don't know!_ She snapped, scuffing the library carpet with her hoof._ That child has a peculiar talent for trouble. Maybe she fell into another dimension! Or maybe she's cried herself into a puddle of tears and can't re-form!_

_Just ignore her,_ he told himself, flipping aimlessly through the pages of a limited edition of Dante's Inferno. Onyx had been on this case about this since Meggie's failed attempt at inciting friendship with the angel, and it had only gotten worse as the days had progressed and she hadn't shown herself. But his patience was running out.

_Are you __**sure**__ she's alright? I mean, this isn't the first time she's done this. She's probably locking herself away from the world and we will never see her again! I know that might be part of the healing process but I get the feeling she's not alright. Do you get that feeling?_

_Alright, that does it!_ "Onyx," he replied tiredly, closing his book and looking up at the agitated horse. "You've been asking me that question for three whole days. I'm sure she's fine. If she needed to talk, she knows where to find us."

_But what if she's too afraid to come to us? _The horse wailed._ I took her to that clock tower! I waited outside while she talked with the angel. And when I brought her back here, I left her alone. What kind of friend am I Pitch, leaving her to stew in her room? In isolation, without anyone to-_

Pitch caught her by the sandy chin and looked her dead in the eyes. "_Enough_, Onyx. You've been doing this non-stop since you got back and I've had enough. Meggie is _fine_, alright? I've checked on her each night and she's alive and well. She just needs time and space to work it all out, and your incessant whining isn't going to help any of us, _understand?_"

The horse nodded slowly and Pitch released her chin, sighing tiredly.

"Darkness alive, it's like you lost your backbone as well as your sanity." He flipped another page, intent on finishing his book but found that focusing was difficult. Onyx was giving him the pouting mare eyes again. "Stop, just stop, OK Onyx?" He reached up to pat her mane, hoping it would sooth her and make up for his earlier snapping. "Look, I know you're worried for her, I am too. But you're right, she has gone through this before, and I'm sure she will again. Meggie's not a newborn, she knows how to handle herself and your self-piteous moping isn't doing anyone any good."

Twin black clouds of sand issued from her nostrils in a sigh. _You're right, Pitch. You're right. I'm sorry._

"Don't be sorry," he told her, tickling her behind the ear gently. "You're just worried. Everything will be fine. We just need to wait her out. She'll be back to her old self in no time."

"Having trouble with your lady, Pitch?"

Both the Boogeyman and his favorite mare looked up to find Kozmotis standing in the doorway, smirking. Before Onyx could blink her master was up like a shot, embracing his other half with a broad grin. "Kozmotis, just the man I wanted to see! What are you doing here?"

The lanky golden-haired doppelganger chuckled. "Well it was getting a bit boring in the palace and I thought I'd stop by. Seems I picked a perfect time. Trouble in paradise?"

It took him a second, but eventually Pitch got it. "What? No, no no nonono no, that's not- I didn't-"

Kozmotis put a hand on his shoulder, smoothly interrupting the flow of babble. "It's ok, Pitch. This happens to all of us. Well, not me of course. I love my wife and she loves me with every fiber of her being. It must be different for you two, all relationships are different, but I'm sure we can fix this up. Now, tell ol' Kozmotis what the problem is."

Pitch gave his old friend a totally unimpressed look. "Kozmotis, get your hand…off my shoulder."

Koz did so.

"Thank you." Pitch dusted himself off, even though there was no real need. "Now, not that it's any of your business, but my problems aren't with Tooth. For once," he added under his breath.

"Do you…want to sit down and talk about it?"

Pitch nodded and they sat down in opposite-facing chairs while Onyx watched placidly. At first glance, you would think one or the other was staring in a funhouse mirror, distorting just the colors. But the longer you looked, the more the subtle differences seemed to leap out at you. The respective ways they sat; one reclining lazily while the other sitting up with attentiveness. Their looks; Kozmotis had grown out his hair much longer than it had been, long enough to put in a distinct pony-tail that reached his shoulders, while Pitch still had his spiky black crown. Even the way they spoke, Kozmotis with a gentle cadence, tempered by Pitch's brusque European drawl.

"So, old friend, what seems to be the problem?" Koz asked, extending his arms in a quick stretch before settling down in his chair, watching Pitch's face carefully. "No beating about the bush, no cryptic. Just tell me what's going on."

"Very we…" Pitch inclined his head. "Its…Meggie."

Koz nodded for him to go on.

"She… well…" Dammit all to hell, how do I put this without sounding like an idiot? "She met up with another spirit a short time ago, and ever since then she's holed herself up in her room and won't come out. Now this has happened before, and I'm actually rather used to this by now," he added before Koz could open his mouth. "But this time its's different. I'm not worried about her health, I'm worried about her mental state."

Kozmotis took a moment to digest the information before answering. "Was the meeting with a boy spirit?"

Pitch blinked. "What?"

"Was it a boy? If so that might account for why she's so depressed."

"She's _not_ depressed," Pitch snapped. "And I don't know what the gender of the spirit has to do with it, but no, it was a girl."

Koz raised his eyebrows. "Huh. Interesting."

"What are you-" His eyes widened. "No, no no Kozmotis you don't understand, it's not about that!"

"How do you know?" He teased. "Statistically speaking, most teenagers hole themselves up in their room on account of romantic rejection and like it or not, your little girl is an immortal teenager."

It took all the self-control Pitch had not to sock Koz. "It's…not…like…that." He growled through clenched teeth. "This girl saved her life, Meggie was trying to track her down to repay her. _Do not_ raise your eyebrows at me Kozmotis Pitchner I know what you're thinking and that's not it at all!"

Koz held up his hands. "OK, OK, my mistake. Just keep that little stat in mind for later."

Pitch rolled his eyes. "You are impossible."

"And you're a dunce." Koz retorted. "Here you are, whining to me about this when you could just ask her!"

_**That's what I've been telling him**__,_ Onyx put in.

"You stay out of this!"

_**Yes Pitch. **_Onyx turned and capered off down the corridor. Maybe it was time to go nap. Leave the bipedals to their yakking.

Once she was gone, Pitch turned back to Kozmotis and shook his head. "Koz, I can't ask her something like that. It just doesn't work. If I try and ask her outright she gets defensive." And he would rather have her depressed than angry any day. "If I badger her, she gets angry at me! And if that happens it's more than likely she will get depressed."

"I thought you said she's not depressed?!" Kozmotis demanded, leaning forward to look him in the eye. "Just because she hasn't left her room for the past few days-"

"Because _I know her, _Koz." The Boogeyman interrupted and this time his voice wasn't choked with emotion. "I know how she thinks. If it went well she would be all smiles, zipping around the caves like a butterfly hopped up on sugar. When things get rough she retreats into her own little world and doesn't come out until she's ready."

Koz rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wondered if he'd gotten all the brains. "They why don't you just wait for her to be ready?" He asked gently, reaching over and resting a hand on his other half's shoulder. "Pitch, you said it yourself. You can't force this girl to do anything. Why would you want to? By all rights she seems like a sweetheart, but she's going through a difficult time right now. Her world is expanding, she's growing as a spirit and as a person. And all you really can do it help her along in the best ways that you can."

He was right…of course he was right. But still…something inside Pitch's mind refused to let the answer be that simple. "I understand that, but it's driving me crazy Kozmotis." His hands were balled into fists. "I _hate_ just sitting on the side-lines, not being able to do anything for her. It's been killing me inside and I try to put on a good face but-"

"Breathe." Kozmotis gripped his shoulder tightly, enough to break him out of his rant and back into the real world. "Pitch, breathe. I understand you're afraid for her, but worrying is just going to make things worse. Give it time. She just needs a while to sort this all out and before you know it she'll be zipping about again."

Pitch blinked and his hands relaxed. It was amazing how much of a toll parenting had taken on him. "You really think so?"

"I _know so_. All you need to do is _stop worrying_ and things will turn out for the best. She's gonna make descisions, and sometimes they're going to be the wrong ones, but that's her business." He chuckled. "At least you're not running around the caves like a chicken with its head cut off like last time."

Pitch smirked at the memory. "Yeah…"

"See? You're making progress too!" Koz clapped his hands jubilantly. "You're not totally smothering her anymore, and that's great!"

"I guess we've both done some growing." Pitch stood, embracing his other half. "Thank you Kozmotis, you've been a great help."

"Anytime, brother." Kozmotis returned the hug. "Parenting's rough, and by the looks of things, you need all the help you can get. I actually only came over to ask if you wanted to go out on a double-date with me and Archaline, but any help I can give is given gladly."

Pitch responded with a cackle. "A double-date? Ha! I appreciate the thought, I really do, but I'm way too busy. Maybe some other time, my friend. Alright?"

Koz shrugged. "Just figured I'd ask. Archaline needed to get out of the palace for a while and she thought you and Tooth might enjoy some time off too but I can tell her no."

Pitch went to make a sarcastic remark but a loud noise from down the hall interrupted him. As one, the two men turned to face the direction of the sound, about the same time Onyx came barreling around the corner, eyes wide.

_**I heard a noise! Is everything alright?**_

"We don't know Onyx," Pitch snapped. "We just heard it too."

"Maybe it's Meggie." Koz suggested. "Maybe she's coming out of her shell and wants to see you."

"Excellent! I can introduce you two finally! Oh she's a wonderful child, you'll get along famously!" Pitch grabbed Kozmotis by the arm and dragged him into the tunnel that led towards the direction of the noise. Vague curses echoed around them and he knew then that it _had_ to be her. _She's alright, she's out!_

They came to the opening that looked out on the living room and found Meggie within seconds. She was dressed in her usual jeans and t-shirt, had her purple hair up in a bandana and was seemingly trying to cook pancakes. Ignoring the flour all over the counter, he ran over and picked her up under her arms, spinning her around joyously. "You're here! Oh, Meggie I missed you so much!"

"Dad!" Kozmotis chuckled as the girl tried to wiggle free amidst the spinning. "Let go! Dad, I'm fine! Really! Put me down or I'm gonna barf all over you!"

Pitch cackled and set her down, still grinning. "Sorry, my dear. I'm sorry. I just haven't seen you in such a long time that I really missed you!"

She frowned, setting her spatula down on the counter. "What do you mean? I just got back from my outing last night."

Now it was his turn to frown. "Meggie…you've been in your room for almost four days. I know because I checked on you each night and you were always in your bed, with a book over your face. I was a little worried at first because it looked like you hadn't moved the entire time but I could see you breathing."

The entire time he had been speaking, Meggie's face was shifting hues. Her cheeks started out a slightly flushed pink, paled, flushed again with excitement and by the time he finished her expression was an odd mix of fear and jubilation. "Really? You're sure I was there, in my bed? _Positive?_"

Pitch nodded slowly, wondering anxiously about the smile slowly spreading over her lips and the light in her eyes.

He was right to be worried. Meggie clapped her hands together, grinning wildly. "This is awesome! I _knew_ there had to be something more to this and look at that, I was right! I've got to take this down! Where's my notebook? Oh, damn it's back in my room! Hang on just a second! Don't let my pancakes burn!" She started jogging off toward her room and managed to get about three feet past Pitch before she noticed the man standing behind him. She stopped, glanced back at Pitch, then at Koz. Then at Pitch again, and then at Koz and continued to do this for a few more seconds until Pitch took pity on her.

"Meggie, I'd like to introduce you to someone. This is Kozmotis, my…"

"Brother." Kozmotis interrupted, sashaying over to them and taking the dumbstruck Meggie's hand, bringing it to his lips. "Kozmotis Pitchner, at your service child."

Meggie opened her mouth but couldn't find any words, so she closed it again.

Kozmotis laughed and Pitch joined him with a light chuckle. "What a charmer. She looks almost exactly like I thought she would. That hair…so gorgeous it's almost like looking at rich fabric!" He reached out and took a strand of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers. She didn't object. "And so soft too… My goodness, where on earth did you find her Pitch, and why have you been keeping her under this rock?"

"I didn't find her, she found me." Pitch retorted, leaning up against the counter. "And I'm not keeping her down here, she's choosing to live down here and venture wherever the hell she pleases. Believe me, I've tried to stop her. It doesn't work."

Meggie finally found her voice. "You're…dad's brother?"

Koz dropped the hair and put an arm around the Boogeyman who shot him a murderous look that he pointedly ignored. "What, can't you see the similarities?"

She nodded slowly, her gaze bouncing between them. "You both definitely have the same nose." Both men surreptitiously touched their noses and Meggie cackled. "There's other stuff too, the vanity and hair, but the noses have me convinced."

Pitch still looked a little hurt but Kozmotis out and out laughed. "What a little spitfire! She's definitely got the family spirit down, Pitch."

Meggie did a little curtsy. "Glad I could amuse. But I'm still a little puzzled… Are you two twins?"

"Oh, good going Kozmotis," Pitch grumbled. "You had to say brothers, now I have to explain the rest of this."

"No we don't," Koz countered. "You can if you like, but it's not necessary." He turned to Meggie and smiled dazzling white. "While he is right, it is a lot more complicated than us being brothers, the story is a long and tedious one which none of us have the time for, I'm sure. Sufficed to say, for now, you can just call me uncle Kozmotis."

She didn't look very impressed and both men held their breath, hoping against hope that the rest of the history between them would stay put to rest and that she wouldn't ask too many questions, even though technically she had plenty of right to. But she didn't. She merely shrugged.

"Yeah… I'll keep that in mind. Hey Dad, I need to go take care of some things. You won't freak out if I'm gone for a couple days, will you?"

Pitch's expression fell like a ton of stones. "But…you just came back! And now you're leaving again? Meggie-"

"Chill Dad, it's only for a little while. I have some things to do, places to go, people to kill, nothing major."

"Excuse me?!"

Meggie held up her hands, grinning. "I'm just kidding, nobody's on my hit-list as of yet. But I really do need to go. I just stopped by here to catch a quick snack."

"Speaking of which, aren't you cooking pancakes?" Kozmotis inquired, suddenly noticing the smell of burning foot that was wafting from the kitchen.

Meggie swore and rushed back to the stove. "AWWW dammit, I was really looking forward to those!"

Koz chuckled. "Quite a character, that girl. Alright then, well I think you've got everything well in hand here Pitch. Adieu, Meggie! Good luck with your pancakes and…whatever else it is you have going on."

"Yeah yeah, thanks for stopping by, mate!" She called back, punctuating with a few choice curses.

Pitch chuckled softly as they headed back to the library. "Yes, she is quite a character," he agreed. "I just hope that whatever she's gotten herself into, she's going to do it safely."

XXXXXXXXX

"I'm still here, but I'm not, but I am! This is tremendous! I need to write this down!" She muttered for the third time, running down the hall to her laboratory where her notebooks were being kept. "Actually, no, screw writing this down I need to buy a tape recorder!" And some paper clips, to organize the mess of files splayed across her desk. And maybe a nice potted plant. Aloe Vera was good for medical purposes, wasn't it?

Her mind was running at about seven thousand times' its' usual rate, swelling with the information of what Pitch had unknowingly told her. It was exciting, miraculous! FINALLY, something to make note of where her powers were concerned!

The last three of four days spent in Wizard-land had clued her into several interesting facts about her inherent abilities: One, not Changing for a day had disastrous consequences. Like, losing control in the middle of potions class and trying to rip the potion-master's head off-type disastrous. Meggie _never_ wanted to repeat that again! And two, that being away from Pitch for more than a few days gave her a horrible case of homesickness. Much worse than that day spent in the Shire.

And so, upon getting back to her own world, she had resolved not to leave for that long again. But now…now she wasn't so sure. Maybe another trip wouldn't be so bad, especially if it was somewhere she didn't have to worry about dying or losing control or the end of the world. Hogwarts was nice but EVERYBODY and their mother was completely sure the world was ending, just because some dude without a nose wad back. Far too stressful an environment.

"Besides," she said to herself, opening the door and settling down into her favorite armchair. "I still have to talk with Lilly and see what's going on there. UUUGH!" Throwing her hands up in the air and letting out a disgusted groan, Meggie sank further down in the chair and pouted. "I was supposed to be taking a break from all this crap dammit, and here I am worrying my brains out! It's not fair!"

_Existence isn't fair, child._ Piped up that helpful little voice that had been pretty quiet during my adventure into the land of wooga-wooga. _Get over it. If you don't like stress, go have some fun! You're immortal, you have all the time in the world to complete whatever tasks you've assigned yourself. Go, talk to the angel if you like. Try to make friends again, it can't go any worse than it did last time._

"Oh yes, that's very helpful."

_Glad you think so. Now, whatever you decide to do, put on a smile about it, alright? That can turn your whole attitude around._

Meggie had her doubts, but she chose to listen to the weird little voice. It hadn't really steered her wrong yet. "Yeah, sure, fine, whatever."

Eventually, after recording her findings- or rather, Pitch's findings, in her journal and adding a quick post-script about the annoyances of wizards, Meggie prepared for her flight to England. Her present from McGonagall turned out to be even more useful than she'd originally thought! The tiny beaded bag was able to pack away books, clothes, snacks, an extra pair of shoes, some dice, marbles, a full-course meal set up in a picnic basket as an apology for the angel, and a set of throwing knives. In case she got bored.

"I don't know how I ever lived without this thing," Meggie muttered, slipping her special book through the bag's opening and tying the drawstring tight. It fit perfectly on her belt and didn't even jangle or make noise as she walked. Absolutely astonishing! "Maybe wizards aren't as bad as I first thought."

After fastening her traveling cloak and tying back her hair, Meggie let Pitch know she was going to be heading out and that she might not be back until tomorrow. She found him in the library, flipping through an ancient copy of Icelandic sagas. He was understandably concerned but she promised to be safe and try not to get into an exuberant amount of trouble.

"Like that's going to help," he told her, pulling her into a hug. "Ugh, I hope you know how much damage this parenting thing has done to me. I used to be the terror that skulks in the night. Now I'm a nervous wreck!"

Meggie snuggled her face against his robes, smiling. Oh, how she'd missed him! "Maybe this would be a bad time to tell you I think I'm pregnant?"

"Don't you even dare!" Pitch growled, pulling her even closer.

Meggie cackled. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. I'm fine, no little purple-haired babies are coming this way. Yet." The look Pitch gave her told her quite clearly she needed to get going before he refused to let her go out of her room. "Alrighty then, I'll be back! Don't have too much fun without me!"

"I'll try," he drawled back, waving. "Don't fly into any trees now!"

"Oh ha ha dad."

XXXXXXXXXXX

The flight took a lot longer than I was expecting, but at least I didn't pass out half-way there. Mind you, my body did start to ache about three fourths of the way there and, as I settled on the window of Buckingham Palace I found myself very thankful to be there.

The lights inside were dull, but there were lights. And shadows. Specifically one shadow, moving around against soft candlelight. I wasn't really sure what to do, so I went with my first instincts and knocked. Twice. Softly.

_She's probably gonna just leave me out here… or shove me out and close the window. _

_Where's that positive attitude? You don't know what she will or will not do, so stop trying to figure it out and just wait for her. Alright?_

As usual, the voice was right and I was being childish, worrying about things I couldn't predict or change. The shadow was nearing the window and I put on my best smile, remembering at the last moment to pull my hood down, in case she didn't recognize me.

Th window opened. "Alright Micha, I've already told you I'm fine! I don't need you checking in on me every five hours so if you'll kindly…piss…off…" The ranting angel paused, noticing her presence. "You're not Micha."

Meggie smiled. "No, I'm not. It's me, Meggie! From the forest? The wolf?"

A small wrinkle of consternation appeared across her nose and Lilly nodded slowly. "Oh, yes I remember you. What do you want?"

"Umm…" good question. "Well I thought…maybe you would…want to hang out. I mean, if you're not busy or something. I know you're a really busy spirit and I'm sorry if I'm bothering you but… I don't really have that many friends and you seemed really nice when you weren't trying to slice my face off so I thought…" _I'm babbling. I should stop now._ And stop I did, trailing off into awkward silence while Lilly watched me critically.

After a moment of silence, she asked, "How did you find me?"

That was so not the question I had expected. "I…remembered the way from when I was a wolf…" I mumbled. She had such a commanding presence that I didn't want to look her in the eye- not if all I was going to see was annoyance and anger -so I looked down at the rest of her. She looked…almost human in her black tank top and fuzzy pajama bottoms that were cut off above the knees. The pants were polar bear patterned and she was wearing a pair of black slipper-socks that had little faces on the toes.

"Oh." Lilly was still frowning.

Paranoia was setting in. _She hates me. That's what that look is for. She hates me and she doesn't ever want to see me again! Dammit!_ I should've just left her alone like she said in the first place! "Look if you want me to leave I will! I just thought…maybe you would want someone to talk to. I'll go now."

I turned towards the night, readying myself to take off but a hand wrapped around my wrist stopped me. "Wait," I turned back. Her expression had softened a little bit. "How long did it take you to fly here?"

"A couple of hours."

Her hand fell away from mine. "You'd better come inside. If you try to fly now, you're gonna drop and I'm not having the Boogeyman come after me for your death."

I smiled. Ha! I knew she wasn't all bad! "Thank you, thank you so much!"

"Yeah yeah, just don't touch anything." She told me, leading the way into her room. "Most of my shit is old and beat-up. You break it, you buy it."

Understood.

Lilly led me to a couch sitting in front of the TV and said, "You can sit down if you want. I was just cleaning."

"Do you want any help?" I offered immediately, shrugging off my cloak and setting it down in a folded pile next to me. "I'm good at cleaning and I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"No no it's fine," she waved me away, already focused in on her task of picking things up off the floor. Candy wrappers, soda bottles and the like. "I like my things in a certain order. You would just get in the way."

"Oh. Ok." I settled back down into the couch and waited quietly for her to finish. Her curly hair bounced up and down as she whirled around the room, picking up junk and discarded books and putting them in their rightful places. It was almost mesmerizing. Without her wings cluttering up her back, Lilly was the perfect image of grace and poise. Oh sure, occasionally she tripped and had to catch herself, swearing as she stooped to pick up whatever it was that she had tripped over, but even then it was amazing to watch.

She must've been a dancer in her last life, I mused, gazing at the tattoos adorning her back and legs. The wings were, of course, the most gorgeous ones I could see but she did have others. A delicate length of barbed wire and roses winding around her upper thigh, and something written in Japanese on her arm. When she reached up to put something on a shelf her shirt rose up past her middle, revealing a snowflake on her stomach. Such exquisite detail… I committed it all to memory. The way she walked, talked, looked, and even swore. Just in case I never saw her again.

If she saw me staring, she didn't mention anything about it. In fact, she virtually ignored me throughout the entire cleaning process. Only when the room was completely free of debris and clutter, the books reorganized and the various posters hanging about the room depicting animes and movies straightened, did she finally sink down onto her bed with a relieved sigh.

"I fucking hate cleaning so much…"

I wasn't sure if she was talking to herself or me, so I decided to stay quiet.

After a few moments, she sat up and looked directly at me. "So," she said, crossing her legs and regarding me with a look that was equal-parts curiosity and contempt. "What do you want to talk about?"

I'll admit, I was a little thrown by how blunt she was. "Um… I'm not sure. To be honest I…didn't think I would get this far."

She actually laughed at that, which made me feel kind of stupid. "What, did you think I'd just leave you out there on my doorstep?" She asked, still chuckling. When I nodded, it just seemed to amuse her more. "Listen, kid, I'm an antisocial bitch, but I'm not cruel. Normally I'll at least let you know if I want you around. And, even though I'm not fond of greenhorns, you're just too funny for me to send away."

Umm… "Thanks…I guess."

"Don't mention it." She picked up a fluffy blanket and wrapped it around herself, still watching me. "You cold? Hungry? I know spirits don't eat but it always makes me feel better to eat after a long flight."

For the first time since coming here, I smiled. "Thank you, but I brought my own." And so saying I reached into my black beaded bag, rooted around for a moment before pulling out my snack baggie. Her eyebrows rose considerably and I offered her a bag of chips, just to be nice.

"Nah kiddo, I'm good." She said, still looking at the bag. "That's a nifty little trick… where'd you get that thing?"

"A witch gave it to me for a present," I told her honestly. "It's frikking awesome, isn't it?"

She nodded slowly. "Can…can I see it?"

"Oh, yeah sure! Just be careful, it's got quite a lot of stuff in it." I passed her the bag and she opened it gingerly.

"Whoa…" Lilly stuck her hand inside, then her arm and was about to put her head in but I wasn't so sure that was a good idea and asked to have it back. She pulled herself out of it, grinning. "You know what this is?" She asked, passing the bag back at me.

I took it, tying it around my waist again. "No, what?"

Her face was almost glowing, it was so bright and her eyes… gods above those were pretty eyes… "It's bigger on the inside!"

Something about that phrase tugged at my memories and, after fastening the bag securely, I glanced around. "Bigger on the inside, yeah, isn't that on one of your posters?"

Lilly nodded, pointing to one of a young man and a girl with blonde hair, standing next to a blue box. "Yeah, it's a Doctor Who reference. I love that show."

"Never seen it."

The look of absolute horror that fell upon her face instantly told me this was a bad, bad thing. Whatever Doctor Who was, it was most likely sacred to her. I was right.

Lilly leaped up from her spot on the bed like a hurricane, lunging for the stacks of movies sitting by her bedside. "Go put in some popcorn, it's in the right cupboard in the kitchen! The Kettlecorn is alright, just make sure to close the door! I'll get the sodas and we can put nine in. Then you shall be educated in the greatness that is the Doctor!"

"Umm… OK then. You said the right cupboard?"

She nodded, too engrossed in looking through her movies to pay me any more attention. What a turnaround, I mused as I headed into her kitchen and started searching for the popcorn. Before, the Lilly I'd known had been rather grouchy and violent. I still didn't remember much from my weeks as the wolf, except that Lilly had been kind to me and now, it seemed she was in that mindset again. Or maybe this was just how all spirits were. Kind one minute, psychotic the next.

I found the popcorn, followed the directions and soon we had two heaping bowls slathered in butter and salt. Lilly opted to dump a mass of brown sugar in hers, claiming it tasted better and, once she'd set up the dvd, we sat down on the couch to watch.

"Put your feet up," Lilly told me. "And you can kick your shoes off. I'm not picky."

I did as I was told, setting my boots on the floor. She handed me a bottle of root beer- my favorite -and pressed play.

As the commercials played, I decided to ask one of the innumerous questions playing about in my head. "Um, Lilly?"

"Yeah?" She replied through a mouthful of popcorn, her eyes glued to a movie preview.

"Why are you doing all this for me?"

Lilly blinked, finally looking away from the screen and I could see annoyance lurking in those lovely brown eyes. "What do you mean? Why am I doing this? I'm doing this to educate you in the ways of Doctor Who! Nobody should go through life without knowing who the Doctor is!"

"No, not that. I mean, why are you being so nice to me? Giving me soda and popcorn, inviting me into your home…" Even as I said it I realized how stupid it sounded. Like I was questioning her kindness or insinuating it was for some other, sinister reason.

I thought she was going to kick me out right then and there but, proving to me once again that I am a piss-poor judge of character, instead of getting angry, she just chuckled. "Boy, you haven't been around many spirits, have you, kiddo?" I didn't even have to answer her. She knew. "Well here's a quick rundown: Spirits are mostly nice, gentle beings whose only goal in life is to fulfill their creed and achieve great things, yaddah yaddah yaddah. Then there are spirits like me who have more humane lives. We wake up, we go to work, we come home and drink our sorrows away. Nothing magical, nothing spectacular. With me so far?"

I nodded.

"Good. Now, I might act like an anti-social bitch, and most of the time I am because I can't stand to be around idiots and nosy do-gooders. I prefer real people who don't have staunch moral principles and who know how to have a little fun. Or at least mindless newbs whom I can mold into the perfect army of nerds."

"Oh my goodness," I almost spit out my root beer, trying to hold my laughter in.

"Funny thing is you think I'm kidding," she replied, grinning from ear to ear. I just chuckled. "Anyway, short answer for your question, kiddo, is that yes, I do sometimes get bored of being all alone and if you're just going to keep coming after me I might as well let you stick around. You seem like a good kid, much better than most that I've met, and I'm kinda curious to see what you're like when you're not scared out of your mind or a wolf."

Wow… "Well, thank you. Does this mean we're friends?"

Lilly chuckled. "We'll see. Now shut up, I'm about to start the show and if you start talking I will gag you."

Something told me she wasn't kidding.

XXXXXXXXXX

The show lasted well into the night, and I learned a lot. Ramifications of time-travel, mostly. I kept my promise to keep quiet and didn't utter a word the entire show. I'll admit, it was difficult. Normally I yack and analyze everything but I didn't want to risk her throwing me out, and so I didn't. After a while I became pretty engrossed with the story. It was a little confusing and very hard to follow, but I ate up every episode and, when the season ended I begged shamelessly to watch the rest.

Lilly laughed. "Maybe tomorrow kiddo. You look like you're gonna pass out right here."

I'll admit, I was a little put-out, but I nodded and gathered my things to go. As I knelt to put on my shoes, she stopped me.

"Hey, where do you think you're doing?" She asked, smiling. "I said you're too tired. And besides, it's way too late to go flying anyway, you might get hit by a plane. You're sleeping on the couch. I've got spare blankets if you need them but it gets pretty warm in here at night."

"Oh no, you're busy tomorrow! I couldn't possibly-"

But she would have none of it. Lilly pushed me back down onto the couch. "You're staying, and that's that. I'll take you back to the boogeyman's in the morning. I have to head that way anyway so I might as well save you the trip."

There was no arguing with an angel in fluffy pajama shorts, so I just nodded and prepared for bed. Lilly replaced the tv's light and noise with the more gentle sounds of acoustic music, coming from the stereo on her nightstand. It sounded like something out of an Indian movie. Lots of guitar and soft drums, but with a steady and tempered beat that quickly made my eyes droop.

Lilly threw a blanket and pillow at me. "There, that should do. If you get cold there's more in the hall cupboard."

I thanked her and she ignored it, pulling a book from the stack sitting near her and settling down into her bed to read. I wanted to do the same- hell I would've rather gone to sleep, but my mind was running at a thousand miles a second and I couldn't even shut my eyes.

"Lilly?"

"Hm?"

"What are you the spirit of?"

I couldn't see her, but I could head the snap of the book shutting. "Why do you want to know?"

"I can't sleep," I confessed. "I'm still wondering about you. All I know is you're an angel-"

"I told you before," her sharp tone made me flinch. "I'm not a fucking angel! I just look like one. These are tattoos, get it? They come to life when I need them. I don't have a fucking halo, or a harp. And the next time you call me an angel I'm going to drop-kick you off the Eiffel Tower!"

Yikes, what a touchy subject. "Ok ok, I'm sorry! I won't call you an angel again!" I promised, very much glad that I couldn't see her face. She was probably glaring at me.

Lilly hmphed. "Don't make promises you can't keep." She told me, then sighed. "I'm the spirit of pain. I take it away from people who have too much."

"Like Karma?"

"No. She's a bitch. I just take it put it away. I keep the world from being overly infected with pain." There was real sorrow in her tone and, if I had the guts to look over the rim of the couch I bet I would've seen her crying. "It's getting to be a real pain in the non-existent balls, but I do the best with what I can. What about you?"

"Hm?"

"What do you do?"

"Good question," I told her honestly. "I have no clue. I can change my shape, it hurts. I travel into storybooks and come back out. I live with my dad, that's about it. I don't know what I am the spirit of, apart from maybe messing things up."

"Hey, knock that crap off!" She was looming over me before I could even register the creak of the bed. I jumped. She ignored it. "You don't screw things up. You haven't been around long enough to truly screw things up so stop thinking that's all you can do!"

"Ok Ok! Jeez, no need to bite my head off!" I grumbled, turning away. "I'm gonna go to bed."

"No, hold up there missy I don't even think so!" She grabbed ahold of my arm and wrenched me up into a sitting position. "You listen here and you listen good! Running away, trying to save a dryad and turning into a wolf for a couple of weeks is NOT screwing things up. You want to talk screwing things up? I lost control and created a hurricane that wiped out tens of thousands of people! What you did was a great thing, way better than I could've done, so I don't wanna hear another word! You got me?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah yeah I got you. Why do you care so much?"

She actually socked my shoulder. "Because, you violet-haired goober, I actually care about new spirits!" She sank down on the couch beside me, gazing into the fireplace as she spoke. "I've seen way too many spirits, ignored by their makers and by their own kind, turn dark. I nearly did the same thing but I was just being a stubborn brat. You, on the other hand, don't have to go through all that crap if someone steps up and tells you differently. Someone who's been out in the world. No offense to your dad," she added, turning to look at me with a small smile. "But an elder spirit can only teach you so much."

I got what she was saying. Pitch tried his best and he was a great teacher about history and fighting and the like but, if I wanted to learn about modern spirits, I would need to talk to modern spirits. "You're right…" I admitted after a few moments. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. In fact, don't thank me either. Being a spirit in this day an age is absolute murder. Humans are getting more violent by the day, and all we can do is hope that we can ease their suffering as much as we can." She was frowning again. "Don't take it too hard that you haven't found your creed yet, kiddo. Some are born with it, some aren't. Some lose their memories during the rebirthing process and some choose to forget them. It's all part of this crazy cycle we call life. And there isn't a damn thing we can do to change it."

Wiser words never spoken.

After a moment, Lilly got up and headed back to her bed. "I'm sorry if I scared you," she told me softly. "But I can't allow any more spirits to beat themselves up over nothing."

"Again, thank you."

"Yeah yeah. Sweet dreams kiddo! Don't wake me before 8 or I might strangle you."

I chuckled as I bedded down for the night. Yes, this was definitely the friend for me.


	28. When The Walls Fell

"You talk in your sleep, do you know that?"

I looked up from the bowl of Count Chocula my new buddy had graciously offered me. "I…what now?"

She was sitting cross the bed, reading a manga magazine and chomping on a crispy piece of bacon. Lilly glanced up over the edge of the book, her eyes glimmering with mirth. "You talk in your sleep. A lot. You woke me up about three times last night."

Oh shit! Blood rushed through my cheeks and I dropped my gaze. "Sorry about that…"

Like everything else thus far, she seemed to have taken it in stride. "Don't be!" She laughed, reaching out to pat me on the shoulder. "It was funny. I had a conversation with you about crimestoppers and evil doughnuts that lasted nearly an hour. At first I thought you were just messing with me until I tried lifting your eyelid and realized you really were asleep."

_She did what now?!_ I could feel my skin practically radiating hot embarrassment and it was all I could do not to groan. I settled for hiding my face into my shirt. Would embarrassments never cease?

The angel had woken me up about half an hour ago with a gentle shake on my shoulder, saying it was about nine and time to get up. I had tried to ignore her at first, groaning groggily anf pushing my face into the pillow. _So warm…so comfy… dad I don't want to get up!_ But she was insistent, violently shaking my shoulder until I was forced back into the world of the waking. She had plans to take me home after breakfast and I was totally fine with that. It would've been nice to spend more time with her but she had a job to do and I respected that. We both had things to do.

At least she didn't see me like I was in the rainstorm. That was a plus. But seriously, talking in my sleep?! About crimestoppers and doughnuts?! Ugh.

My spirit sense felt her eyes on me, unwavering and curious. It made me want to curl in on myself like an armadillo. The book was lying on her crossed knee, completely forgotten as she gazed thoughtfully at me. "Bloody hell child, you're like a totally different person! The sarcastic little brat I first met wouldn't hesitate to meet my eyes. What happened between then and now?"

All I could do was shrug and take another bite. The milk was saturated with sugar from the cereal and my teeth practically vibrated with sugarshock as I gulped it down. "I dunno."

She leaned in towards me and something enticed me to look back up at her. When I met her eyes, it was like all the kindness in the world was reflected back in them. "Oi," she caught me by the chin before I could look down again. "Is this about last night? Because I yelled at you for calling me an angel?"

"No, no no!"

"Then what?" She prodded. "Something's bothering you, kid. And I don't like mopers. So out with it!"

The nightmares…being in debt…being weak…being a screw-up…being useless… where did I start? I sighed, setting my bowl aside so that I could give her my full attention. Her hand dropped from my chin and I missed the sensation almost immediately. The desire for physical contact, just to have a hug or another pat on the shoulder…

Then that accursed self-disgust started roiling up within me again and I grimaced. What a joke. Could there be a more desperate person for attention than me? Seriously. With all the family I had… and now friends, and I was still acting like a starving orphan.

Lilly was gazing intently at me. Waiting for her answer no doubt. Let's see, sob story or truth? It would be kind of douchey to make things up now… especially since she's such a good person. Yeah, better to just tell the truth. "I guess… I'm still feeling like I'll never be good for anything. It took a while for me to go to sleep last night because I was thinking a lot about what you do… I want to be like that. Useful. I want to help humanity!"

True to form, the angel just smiled knowingly and patted me on the shoulder. "Sweetheart, all in good time. Not all spirits are fortunate enough to get to start their creed immediately. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but your adopted dad spent hundreds of years doing the exact opposite of what he was supposed to, _before_ he figured out a way to be what he is now. Am I right?"

She was indeed. Goodness knew he'd told me enough times…

Lilly clapped her hands as if that settled everything. "There you go. Time will tell. Everything under the sun and even above is subject to time. You just have to be patient."

_Patient. Bloody hell I hate that word._"Time's a bitch. And I _hate_ waiting!" I told her, scowling. Yes, I realize pouting about things I couldn't change was stupid and petty, but it wasn't like I hadn't done it before. One more deserved pout wouldn't hurt.

It might not hurt, but it definitely had a profound effect on Lilly. Her eyes grew glassy and distant and, for a moment I feared she was angry with me. And then, inexplicably, she fell over sideways onto the bed and started cackling like a mad witch. "Aha! AHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Um…Lilly?"

She continued to cackle, rolling from side to side and letting our wave after wave of uproarious laughter that shook the very bed itself. "AHAHAHAHA OH, OH, that's _priceless!_"

_I can't believe she doesn't wake the queen, doing crap like this! Seriously, there are people across the Thames that can hear her! _Lilly continued to laugh and laugh for several long minutes while I just watched passively, smirking and waiting for her to calm back down and eventually, she did.

"Ahem. Sorry about that." Lilly coughed, sitting up. She was still chuckling a little bit. Several strands of hair had fallen loose from the poofy bun on top her head, framing her pale, grinning face.

"No problem," I told her. "I'm just a little confused. What was that all about?"

Lilly coughed again, looking mildly embarrassed. "Nothing important. It's just… my adopted brother… Micha… he's actually a lord of time."

"Wait… you're related to a time lord?!" Lucky…

"I said adopted, didn't I? And no, he's not that kind of time lord. He actually watches over the strands of time. He lives in the tower of Big Ben, not the Tardis."

"Oh…" My hopes shattered. "Does he at least look like nine?"

"No, sorry. But he does need a girlfriend. Maybe I'll introduce you two someday." She looked me up and down thoughtfully. "Yes… you'd made quite the cute couple."

"Oh shut up!" Darkness save me from spirits overly-interested in my love-life.

"There, that's the smile I've been missing. Come on, eat up. I've got to leave soon and it's dangerous to fly on an empty stomach!" She punched me lightly on the shoulder and I nodded, eagerly slurping down the last of my milk. It was nice not having dad at my back, berating me about manners and not slurping or licking my plate. It seemed like she was less concerned with hollow acts of propriety and more concerned with my actual well-bring. I thanked her for it.

"Oh, don't bother. Manners are for talking with royalty and aren't good for much else. A burp is a burp and a slurp is a slurp." She waved a hand dismissively, putting the book back and rising to her feet. "I'm gonna go change. Can you be ready to leave in ten?"

I told her I could. Just needed to put my bowl in the sink, find my socks and shoes and put on my cloak. All things that could be done in an instant. "I'll be ready."

The morning English air was crisp and fresh as Lilly opened the window and stepped out onto the balcony, gesturing for me to follow. "Do you want me to drop you off at the same place or…?"

"Just in front of the caves is fine. Unless…"

Lilly raised an eyebrow. "Unless what?"

OK, time for my best cutesy face. "Unless you want to let me tag along to watch you work!" I blinked innocently, smiling as wide as I could. "Come on, I swear I won't be any bother!"

She flat-out refused. "No."

"But-"

"No! Look, you're very cute, but I like to be alone when I'm working and I don't need you lurking at my back asking a dozen questions." Her hands were on her hips and I knew by the familiar no-nonsense tone she was using that there was no debating this. So I decided to accept her answer with quiet dignity and grace.

"Fine." I grumbled.

Lilly shook her head in disbelief, smiling behind loose cords of curly corkscrew hair. "Come on, let's fly. Maybe one day I'll bring you with me. When I know you better."

My heart lifted as I heard the word fly. "Can we race? I bet I can beat you to Pennsylvania!" Hopping off the ledge, I spun around to face her and grinned. "Come on then! Or is an old spirit too slow for a youngster like me?"

Her brown eyes flashed and a positively evil smirk split her lips. "Oh, is that a challenge little greenhorn?" In a flash her wings had sprouted from her back and were hurtling her into the air. "Catch me if you can, Meggie!"

We raced across the entire continent, sparing no time for the cheap theatrics I normally employed. This was a test of strength and stamina, and I intended to treat it as such. Lilly didn't go easy on me, which was just how I had expected it to go. Even as my body groaned with the effort and my eyes became masked by salty tears from the force rippling across my cheeks, I didn't give in until we landed on the soft, mushy burgess ground.

Lilly laughed as I collapsed from exhaustion onto the green earth. "Well, that was certainly fun." She said, sidling over to me and kneeling. Her hand wrapped around my shoulder. "We'll have to do this again sometime."

If my lungs had had any air, I would've told her hell yes! Instead I just nodded, grinning breathlessly.

We exchanged hugs and then, with a final parting bow, she left, promising to return to visit me again. "But you have to tell me if your dad's with you first," she warned. I asked why but all she could tell me was that he and she didn't get along well together. "Adieu, Meggie. Keep yourself safe. I hate having to bury friends just after meeting them."

And then she left in a swirl of feathers and icy wind. The sun had warmed the rich, green grass beneath me. Even though it was still only early spring. I laid back, watching her winging through the bright blue morning sky, higher and higher until she was just a black dot. And then she disappeared completely, leaving me to contemplate the mysteries of the universe. Until the albino tripped over me, that is.

As if I needed any more reason to believe daydreaming was bad for me, I grumbled, rubbing the spot where a bare foot had kicked me in the side and rolling over to whoever it was. The kid was sprawled in the grass, groaning something about bunnies and shoes as he tried to get to his feet. I did the same, figuring it would be rude not to ask who he was.

"Make a habit out of tripping over people lying on the ground, do you?" I asked, brushing some of the grass off my pants before raising my head to look at him. I was totally not prepared for what I found staring guiltily back at me.

"Heh, not normally no. I'm really sorry miss. My name's Jack Frost." Jack extended a pale hand towards me but I was still too stunned to move.

Brilliant, snowy white hair that stuck out in all directions, just like icicles. A full face, narrow nose, blue-tinted lips and eyes that were the color of brilliant sapphires winking back at me. His name certainly suits him, I mused, looking over the frosted blue hoody and brown calf-pants. Definitely not an albino from those eyes… probably not human either.

"Miss? Hey miss, are you alright? I didn't scare you, did I?"

I snapped out of my own thoughts just in time to see his hand waving in front of my face. "Better get that away before I bite it off, kid." I told him. He immediately whipped it back to his side while his other hand nervously combed through the back of his hair. Hehe. "Nervous little thing, aren't you?" I took a step closer, smirking. Let's hope he was a younger spirit than I was, or else I was about to do something really stupid. "Are you afraid of me?"

The nervous smile shifted ever so slightly into a small, private smirk. "Should I be?" He asked, raising a dark eyebrow.

_Wait, what?!_ "Hey, why are your eyebrows dark when the rest of you is so pale could blend in with the KKK?" I demanded, dropping the whole spook act and reaching for his shoulder. "How does that work then?"

He started to answer me but, all at once I became totally deaf to the outside world. Jack's lips moved at a rapid-fire pace, creating tongues of wispy fog in the chilly morning air. Without even realizing it, my eyes had focused intently on his face. Those lips… perfectly symmetrical. The subtle hint of frostbite blue coating his lips…and the snow brushing his irritatingly dark eyebrows… similar snow coated his shoulders and the hem of his pants.

_It's freezing out and he's still wearing barely anything. How does that feel?_ I wondered. _Does a frost spirit feel cold? He has too… or maybe not… _The hairs on my arms were standing straight up, and it had nothing to do with the snow on the ground. All at once, the fire sparked back to life, banishing any semblance of cold or shirk. I knew this feeling all too well. It was like one of those tongues of fog pulling at me, whispering. _Go ahead. Go ahead. Try it._

_Eh, a little change isn't going to hurt me. It might mess with the kid a little, but it would make things fun_. And I so did want to know how he felt, bare skin on ice… would I feel the same? Maybe… no… possibly… _Ugh this is going to drive me insane! It's not going to hurt either one of us for me to try it. _

So I did it.

It all hit me like a frozen wall of water, ripping my old form from my being and replacing it with this new, slender, white-haired boy. It didn't take long for me to figure out this was a form which suited me well. All the usual pain was snuffed out immediately by the intense cold echoing throughout my body. I was numb. Blissfully, beautifully numb. And yet I was so alive it took my breath away…

The kid was powerful. There was no doubt about that. And bloody hell did he have a nice body! So slim, easily mobile and hardened by battle… This was as close to a perfect form as I could imagine.

Jack didn't seem to see it as such. "Wha- what are you doing?" He stammered, backing away. The look of abject horror on his face pulled at my guilty heart. I decided to change back, to make things easier for him.

"It's alright," I soothed. "This happens to me a lot. I'm a shape-shifter. Your form intrigued me and I had to let myself try it. You…you don't mind, do you?"

He probably didn't know how to deal with seeing someone take his form, so he just stood there and stared blankly.

"I guess not." I chuckled. "It's a really nice form, by the way. You take good care of it."

It took a second, but eventually he seemed to shake himself out of the dazed stupor and smiled. "Yeah… I try."

We both laughed and the tension between us was released in a soft, gentle exhale of breath.

"Well…that's quite a nifty trick." He said, looking me over with such scrutiny that it left me feeling a little self-conscious. "I haven't met anybody that can do that! And I've been around for a while."

"Heh, yeah. Nifty isn't the word I would use, but it's an interesting existence to be sure. I still haven't figured out how it works fully, but I'm getting there."

"Getting used to your powers does take time." He agreed. "It took me three hundred years to be able to use them effectively, and that was before I became a Guardian!" And suddenly, all seriousness vanished. His eyes lit up like moonlight on a cloudless night and he started bouncing towards me like an excited puppy. "Hey, do you know the Guardians? I think they'd really like you! You said you're a shape-shifter, right? What else can you do? Like, what's your spirit power? Oh, and you never told me your name!"

_So this is that little thread I felt, rolling around inside his head… the tiniest hint of madness. Interesting. _Ironically, I have a low tolerance for madness that isn't my own and I was in the middle of debating wither to run for Pitch or just smack this kid to try and get him to shut up when something he said struck a chord inside my brain. Guardians…Jack… OH SHIT!

"Hold on," I raised a hand, cutting him off mid-babble. He looked a bit put-out but I had bigger things to worry about than a snowy spirit's feelings. "Erch. Halt. Make a U-turn. Did you say you're a member of the Guardians?"

He nodded hesitantly. "Yeeees,"

"HA! Then you must be the hyper-active grandson Pitch is always whining about! Jack Frost! Jamie's told me a lot about you too." _But he didn't mention how hot you were… no pun intended._

Jack's unnaturally dark eyebrows shot up right to his snowy hairline. "Wait, you know Jamie?! AND Pitch?!" He almost screeched the name of my adopted father.

"Yes yes, we've been buds for a while now. And Pitch has basically adopted me. Have we caught up now, Snowy?" _Wow, that came out a bit more condescending than I meant…_

But, thankfully, he didn't seem to notice. In fact, as I spoke the words his eyes grew to be the size of golf balls and white frost started curling across the grass in his immediate vicinity. "He- he adopted you?! Wait, then you must be-" a massive grin split across his face. "You must be Meggie! Tooth let slip you were staying with him! She kind of made it seem like a charity thing but this all makes sense now!"

"Charity thing?!" _Oooh Tooth, I'm gonna get you for this!_ Though realistically, it had started out that way. _Maybe he does have a point… _"Well, I don't know much about that… but after all the grief I gave him I guess I deserve to be treated like a charity case."

I expected him to nod, maybe chuckle a little, but instead his smile drooped and he shifted into a more somber stance. Before I could even blink, his hands were wrapped around mine and I shuddered at how frigid they were. "Listen, if there's anything I can ever do to help you, please don't hesitate to ask. OK?"

Those eyes were so sweet and sincere, even though I had no clue what he was on about. "Um…sure Jack. Whatever you say."

"I'm serious, if you need anything! You can always feel free to come find me. I mean… I live in the North Pole, but I'm sure you could convince Pitch to teleport you there. And if you ever need to talk to someone your age-"

"OK, hold up! What are you talking about?!" I demanded, pushing his hands away. The old paranoia that I had thought, hoped and prayed to the darkness I'd gotten over, came skulking back up from the deepest depths of my mind. What does he know? How much had Pitch told? Is there something he knows about me that I don't? _Easy Meggie, easy. Breathe. Don't run, it won't help. Just listen to what he has to say and think carefully._

Of course, all those nice things went flying out the window when I felt something tap against my heel and tried to step over it, only to find myself tangled and falling face-first. "Damn." I growled at the earth, fingernails scrabbling to find purchase and push myself up. "What in the hell was that?"

The item that had tripped me up turned out to be a piece of wood lying unbeknownst to us in the grass. I reached to pick it up and marveled at how light it was for something so bulky. One end curved like a hook and the other had curling strands of frost rising up the length.

Jack, who had seen me fall and was running over to help me up, cried out in delight. "This is yours, I assume?" I smirked, handing it to him.

He snatched it from my hand and cradled it tightly against his chest. "Yes, thank you! I must've dropped it in the scuffle. Thank you thank you thank you! Oh, are you alright? I thought I kicked you pretty hard…"

"I'm fine, thank you." He was so gentle and caring, and unafraid of me to boot. What a nice kid. He even offered to help me up and I accepted, letting him take my hand in his frigid digits once again. Once I was on my feet, he asked me where I was heading. I shrugged. "Probably back into the caves. Pitch doesn't like me leaving for long periods of time. He's given me pretty much free reign to go and come as I please but I know it worries him when I'm gone for more than a few days."

"I see. Do you mind if I come with you? I'm headed down that way myself."

_Right, he's Pitch's grandson. I can't believe I haven't met him before now._ "I guess we can walk together."

Side by side, the spirit of winter and I headed down into the bowels of the earth, making idle chit-chat the whole way down. He was some three hundred and change years old, his favorite food was chocolate, he lived with Santa Clause and his girlfriend, his elder brother was a giant rabbit and his job was to spread fun and happiness to the universe through snow.

He was a wellspring of information, to say the least.

"Bloody hell you're hyper," I laughed, cutting him off in the middle of a long rant about the merits of hard versus soft snow.

"Is that a bad thing?" He questioned. It wasn't, not really.

Pitch didn't seem surprised at all to see us as we entered the main caverns. He was sitting in the living room watching a psychological thriller movie and simply waved us over without even looking away from the screen. "Hey kids! Good to see you finally met each other."

"Hey dad!" I crossed the room and gave him a hug. How long had it been? Only a day? He returned my hug and I sat down on the couch, glad to be back home. There's no place like it.

"Hey gramps. Long time, no see." Jack hopped over the back of the couch and slid into the seat at the opposite end of the couch. "Are you having fun, holed up here in your caves?"

Pitch raised an eyebrow at the kid. "You're the Guardian of Fun, shouldn't you be able to tell me?" He asked dryly.

Jack laughed. "Yeah you're right. Although I really don't get how this can be considered fun!"

It was really interesting to watch those two talk. Grandparent and grandchild, colleagues, friends. Each relationship over-lapped on each other to create a simple, elegant back and forth that made me marvel. And it also made me pause for thought. When had I become so philosophical? Debating the merits of madness and ruminating on the hotness of ice spirits… what an interesting development. I had become more complex without realizing it…

Dad invited us to watch the movie and it made for a grand old time. Popcorn, soda, and an after-movie dinner of roast beef sandwiches, the works! Jack talked throughout the entire movie, babbling on and on about every little development. It took all I had not to pound the kid's skull in but Pitch seemed to be able to tune him out rather easily. I…on the other hand…had a little more trouble.

"Bloody hell I'm glad he's gone," I confided in Pitch once the movie was finished and Jack had left, claiming the need to get back to his work and promising to visit again sometime soon. "He's a sweet kid but I've never heard someone who yacks so much!"

He was smiling that secretive little smirk that I hated so much, as if he knew something I didn't. "Yes indeed. So, how was your adventure with the angel? Did you make another friend?"

"I did, actually! She's still a little on the prickly side, but I think she's warming up to me. Oh, and when I met Jack I actually changed into him! It was kind of like my usual change where I react to seeing another form, but I was able to control it this time! It still hurts but that's good, because it helps remind me. But oh my goodness, the power inside that kid! It was like a blizzard roiling around inside my chest! Does he even know how strong he is?"

Pitch nodded sagely. "I'll say. Jack is the only Guardian besides Sanderson to fully defeat me in battle. That's interesting… so you're starting to fully register the extent of your powers. Do you want to try and invoke that again when we train? You might even be able to use his powers as if they were your own, like when you changed into me while you were still acting like a prisoner."

He made a good point. "Yeah, I think I will try that! I really liked how his body felt because I wasn't in as much pain after the change was complete!"

"That's a mildly creepy statement but I'm electing to ignore it. In any case, if you feel up to training I don't mind taking a short jaunt to the sparring room. Better to practice now, while you still can remember how to do it."

He was right, and I decided to accept. But it didn't do much good. I could summon up Jack's imagine from memory very easily, and the familiar sensations sprang to life almost the instant I snapped my metaphorical fingers, but once I tried to use his frosty powers to stop Pitch's attacks I felt a hot buzzing in my chest and knew something was definitely wrong. But, stupid me, I tried it anyway. I tried to force the power out. Let it snow, let it snow let it snow.

I woke up nearly six hours later in my bed, where I've been sitting, writing in my journal about the day's events. Sitting, and pondering on this one question. The question that had been battering against the inside of my skull and keeping me from enjoying a nice, peaceful rest once I got sick of writing.

"Where did I go wrong?" I asked myself, sitting in the corner of my dreamscape's vast expanse. I had my knees tucked up around my chin and was struggling not to have some kind of panic attack. "It was so easy to LOOK like him, why couldn't I just BE him?!" I'd probably be much happier as a winter spirit than…whatever I was now. And certainly a stronger one.

The nightmares had been prowling around the outermost reaches of my mind since I had fallen into the fitful sleep, and not the sand-horses that had aided and abetted me in my troublemaking either. The evil, dark things that lurked inside my head, foaming at the mouth to get a bite of me. Things I knew, and things I was striving to know but didn't. Same old same old. Frankly it was getting annoying. But they knew better than to come near me when I was in a mood like this and kept their distance.

As if sensing my thoughts, the monsters started to chitter and shriek.

"Yeah, that's right. I'm talking about you!" I yelled, expecting to deal with a backlash of darkness but instead I found the monsters were occupied with something else. Someone else. Golden lights, dancing in the distance amidst a whirlwind of darkness. And whatever it was, it was coming my way! "Dad? Is that you?" Was he trespassing on my dreams to check up on me? It wouldn't be the first time… But those lights… gold wasn't dad's color.

I got up and headed in the direction of the lights, ready to try and bust some heads but the color of the lights quickly told me it wasn't dad who had dared trespass here. And, by the flashing patterns, I'd say they were in trouble!

"Hang on interloper, I'm coming to save you!" I busted through the wall of shadows and found myself standing face to face with… _A small, golden baby in a onesie?_ OK, maybe this was just another one of my weird dreams. Well, whatever it was, the monsters were closing in on it. Better play along. "Hey, get away from him!"

The spiky-haired baby looked up, just in time to see me slice through the monsters with-

"Hang on, when did I get knives?! Oh, right. Dream." The shadowy skeleton things chirped and chittered angrily at being deprived of their meal. I swung around and glared, baring my teeth at them. "Leave, now!" They scattered into dust and the room around us grew bright and warm again. I turned to the baby in the onesie. "Sorry about that, I keep killing them but they just keep coming back… What brings you here little guy?"

The thing raised a golden eyebrow so high it literally started floating off his face! His expression was something along the lines of _I could ask you the same question._

"Hey, this is my dream! As far as I'm concerned, you're just a figment of my imagination!" The little dude actually laughed.

"A figment of your imagination eh? That's one I haven't heard in a while."

His voice was so…human. And deep, resonating like a glass of warm milk right before bedtime. It took me back a little. "Um…yeah… but you aren't…are you?"

"No I am not." He admitted. "And please forgive me for trespassing in here. When I sensed a different dream pattern than Pitch's or Tooth's I…had to investigate. It's in my nature."

Was I seeing things or…were there a slightly rosy glow marring his cheeks? "It's…alright." I replied awkwardly. "But… we should probably get out of here." The monsters eyes were on both of us. It made my skin crawl. "They won't let me stay out in the open for very long. Are you asleep too or…did you come into my dream like dad does?"

"This isn't a dream, little one." He corrected gently, drawing the words slowly and clearly to make it easier on me. "This is limbo, a state between dreaming, nightmares and everything else. But in any case, you are right. We should leave this terrible place. I would like to continue talking to you."

I nodded, letting my eyes slip shut. "I'm going to wake up now. Brace yourself little guy." _Breathe…slowly. In…out. Focus on going home… _I'm still not one hundred percent sure how this works yet but within seconds I was waking up in my bed. The adrenaline of the fight with the demons inside me still hadn't fully subsided, causing me to jolt up out of bed with a yelp. _Oh…bloody hell… I hate those things so much. _Remnants. Disgusting.

A hand touched my shoulder, causing me to turn. So, he wasn't just a figment of my imagination after all.

"Oh, hey little dude. Glad to see you didn't get stuck inside my head." He threw back his head and laughed, clutching his belly as great rolls of mirth shook him. Of course, no sound came out, but it was still annoying. "Wait…you can't speak? But I just-" He shook his head. It was just in the dream then… in real life this guy was a mute.

Determined to be polite, I started moving my hands. The old gestures felt clumsy and off, like a bitter cadence or a poor dialect. I just hoped it got my point across. _I'm so sorry, can you sign? _

The little dude's eyebrows rose even further and he nodded, signing, _Yes, I can!_ Then he started drawing with his finger in mid-air: _And more!_

Wow…those lines were so intricate…a single length of golden cord- no, not cord. Sand! It pulsed like a heartbeat along the curling, elegant words. Hold on…sand? "Then you must be…"

He extended one hand, while the other wrote. _Sanderson McSnoozles, the Sandman. Or just Sandy, at your service._

_Oh this is just great! Another one of the Guardians!_ That made for…what…five now? Jack, Pitch, Tooth, now this guy… "Nope. Only four then."

Sandy blinked.

"Oh, never mind me little dude. I just like talking to myself. I do that." The blankets beneath me were soaked with sweat. I must've been rolling around... Casting them aside gave me much-needed relief and I turned to face Sandy directly. "So…what're you up to, little dude?"

XXXXXX

What indeed. It was a complicated question, one Sandy didn't fully have an answer for. The best he could hope to tell the girl sitting eagerly before him was, quite simply, that he was bored. It was the truth, after all.

There he'd been, sitting up in Cloud Castle, watching as the various dreamstrands curled and twisted across the sky, feeding through the tubes in the lower levels of the castle. The dials and gauges were all in the normal, the night sky was clear without any call for storms, so all in all everything was pretty standard for the night.

Until the crazy stuff started popping up on his dream-registers.

It was just like last time. He'd been hunting through the ley lines, trying to find a tiny semblance of the owner of the strand he'd detected before. Had been for the past few weeks. Of course, the entire system tripped out each time he'd gotten close and, unless he wanted to spend the next few months out of commission and fixing his system, a break now and then was in order.

But now he was back at it again and more determined than ever. Only this time, he wasn't going to use the ley lines to track the odd dream. He was going to go in old-school and sleuth it out! That had been the plan, at any rate. Park the castle and go in ninja, infiltrate Pitch's caves and find out once and for all what it was he was hiding down there! And who!

_Her_. He'd let it slip that it was a her. But that didn't answer much. _Her_ could mean any number of people! _It's someone I haven't met yet._ None of the guardians had either, according to Pitch. And that narrowed down the list considerably. There weren't many spirits Sandy hadn't had the pleasure of meeting, and those he hadn't were among the unsavory sort. The she Pitch spoke of didn't appear to be of that sort.

_Well, I'll know soon enough. _He thought, edging down the hallway. The globe had indicated two sleep patterns- Pitch's and another, and it was that other he was tracking using manual means. Down the corridor…two steps…then a left. It led him to a door which was unlocked, and opening it revealed a small bedroom with a young girl sleeping fitfully inside.

Sandy gaped at his discovery. This…was her. The secret. The person Pitch hadn't wanted anyone to see. He approached cautiously, ready to run in case she woke up. Or ready to knock her out again. She wasn't the most peaceful of sleepers, but she wasn't thrashing around like she was in pain either. That was good. But her dream…

He leaned in and expanded the halo of golden sand encircling her head enough to see into it. The girl was in a dark space, not unlike Pitch's maze of early years, made of dark stone and shadows. She was sitting in the darkest of those corners, hunched in on herself like a frightened mouse while dark things crawled all over her, spitting, hissing and whispering while she did…nothing.

_Why doesn't she fight them?_ He wondered, gazing in abject horror at the scene before him. _She's just sitting there, talking to herself… why? _Well, no time to find out like the present! Steeling himself, Sandy jumped through the portal into her dream-scape and was immediately bombarded by monsters.

They were unlike anything he had ever seen. Skeletons made of darkness that chittered and creaked, detaching themselves from the surrounding swarm and barreling towards him at breakneck speed. A quick lash of his dreamsand whips took care of the first set but they just kept coming. The whispers were the worst part though. They crawled into his ears, hissing of lost loved ones and bittersweet horrors that danced the macabre around in her head.

And all at once, as his whip wrapped around another and temporarily banished it, Sandy realized what he was fighting. These were not dreams... they weren't even nightmares! There were forgotten dreams, part of lost memories and, as such, out of his jurisdiction. He wasn't supposed to be here and, unless he left swiftly, he might not make it out alive.

_What I wouldn't give to have Tooth here_... he thought, glancing from the shadowy figures that were drawing ever closer, crawling just outside the reaches of his whips, skulking along on their bellies and many, many legs.

"Hey! Get away from him!"

Sandy looked up just as a blinding beam of violet light split one of the figments straight down the middle. It vanished in a shrieking puff of smoke, revealing the young girl whose dream this was standing in its place, wielding a pair of knives. Their wicked gleam shone almost as brightly as Sandys own and the glow of her illustrious hair.

_Wow… What a sight. She's a warrior, to be sure_. And apparently fearless from the way she glared at those monsters. The girl told them to get lost and, once they had done so, the knives vanished and she turned towards him. They exchanged a few pleasant words and Sandy quickly learned she wasn't just any ordinary spirit. She was strong, in mind, body and soul. He saw what Pitch had probably seen from the very beginning. The makings of a fantastic spirit.

She suggested going back into the real world and he was totally fine with that. It would make communication a bit more difficult, but that was just how it went. It wasn't like he hadn't been dealing with things like that for all of his life. At least, that's what he thought. But it turned out this strange girl was even more amazing than he's expected. She knew sign! What's more, she knew it well! Like someone had trained her. Introductions were readily exchanged and he learned her name was Meggie.

_Such a pretty name. _

She blushed. "Thank you. Sandy's a nice name too. Pretty unique."

He shrugged_. It's a family name. So…how long have you been staying here?_

Meggie thought about it for a moment, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, about three months I think? Before I found him, I was rooming with a friend. But he knows so much more about the spirit world and offered to help me. Technically I shouldn't even be talking to the other spirits until I'm fully in control of my powers but, in this case, I think he won't mind. From the way you took on the remnants, I'd say you can handle yourself."

_Remnants_? He asked, using sign. It was easier on his sand.

"Those things inside my dreams. That's what I call them. Obnoxious, lurking ghouls. If I had my way, I'd slay them all! But I can't, not until I've found what I lost."

_I see. Well in any case, it's nice to finally meet the reason my castle went haywire. Pitchs' doing, I take it? To keep you off the radar until you're ready? _She frowned, pondering the words_. _He raised an eyebrow_. He...didn't tell you there's a barrier around this place, keeping dream creatures and guardians like me out? _

She shook her head. "No..."

Just like Pitch. _He didn't tell you, and he didn't tell us… Dammit! Why does he always think he has to go this alone?!_ Sandy asked himself, sighing and rubbing his forehead. _This happens every time... every time! Why can't he understand are here to help him?_

She actually laughed at that, drawing his gaze up from the void of thought. She was sitting there, on the bed, her hair a tangled, curly mess, laughing. "Hehe, yeah he does tend to have that dark, mysterious, almost batman-like drive to do what he needs to do alone." Meggie agreed, blushing slightly. "I might've picked that up from him too. But he means well, and I love him for what he's done for me. We both hope that, someday, I'll find my creed and I'll be able to live like a normal spirit."

_Why can't you do that now? _He questioned_. What is it about your powers that make them so volatile that he had to keep you locked down here?_

Meggie heaved a mighty sigh. "Why does everybody think that? He didn't force me to stay down here, not really. I mean he did keep me down here when I was just getting to know him but that's cuz I hurt him! Once we got to know each other better and I realized it was important for me to develop control over my powers before I met up with other people, I chose to stay down here, away from the guardians until I can control myself."

Control herself… she even sounded like Pitch! The poor thing… _I understand. Believe it or not I had to deal with a similar situation when I was younger. Your powers are volatile, aren't they? Really unpredictable. _Hell, he hadn't even seen her powers yet and he knew…

Her head hung low, shamefully. "Yes. I can't risk hurting anyone, so I stay here. Or go out and adventure on my own, and try to stay out of everyone else's way. I've met some people, and my abilities are getting stronger every day but... a while ago something happened... and..."

Sandy took pity on the child and put a hand on her shoulder. _It's alright little one, you can talk to me. Don't worry, I've played listener for more years than this earth has even been here. _

A little more coaxing and she was talking readily about everything. Her powers, her history. There wasn't much of it, sure, but it helped him to understand where she was coming from. And in return he was able to help alleviate some of the mysteries behind those monsters lurking inside her brain.

_As a dreammaster, I'm privied to know all sorts of things about the unconscious that most do not even wish to know._ He explained when she questioned how he knew what he did. _Dark, supernatural things and mundane things that are equally malicious to the psyche. I've dabbled in those kinds of things for years and they've made me what I am. Age and experience are nothing compared to good research and tenacity._

"But… if those things were forgotten memories, I thought that was Tooth's department?" She asked, frowning.

She was quite right. _That is, _he assured her._ But dreams and memories share a very fine bond, sometimes so fine you can't tell the difference. But that bleeds into time which is most definitely NOT my department. In any case, what you've been experiencing are forgotten memories, trying to manifest themselves in the form of dreams. This can be considered either of our areas of expertise but ultimately, my work is enough in this case. _

"Yes, I thought it might be something like that. I lost my memories after becoming a spirit."

_That's normal_, he assured her._ Jack suffered the same fate but eventually he regained his memories and now leads a peaceful, happy life with us as his family. You can do the same!_

Meggie's eyes lit up like torches as she leaped out of bed. The covers went flying and Sandy had to catch himself before he followed suit. "THAT'S IT!" She cried, clapping her hands in jubilation. "_That's_ what got Jack so anxious! That's why he kept offering to talk! Oho, this is precious! What a sweet kid. Truly…"

_Oh, so you know Jack then?_ Interesting.

"Just met him today. And he made a point to give me those big, wide puppy-dog eyes and say that if I ever needed to talk about anything, that he would be there for me." Meggie clasped her hands together and puckered her lips, the picture of playful mockery that Jack would've just adored. Then she dropped the act. "It was really sweet. Confusing, but sweet. And now I know what he's talking about!"

_Ahh, now I see. Now it all makes sense. He and Jack have that in common as well, _he told her. _They're both caring, sweet individuals and they will do anything to make the people they love happy. Of course, sometimes that involves keeping everybody else in the dark and that's where I mostly find fault with them. You seem to have that quality as well_. He added, looking her up and down. _You've been plagued by these things for…what's it been…several months now? And you haven't sought neither Tooth nor Pitch's help on the matter? _

Ruddy blush splattered across her cheeks and she ducked her head farther down to hide her eyes. "Yes…that's right. I…thought…"

_You thought you could handle it on your own._ He finished patiently, lifting her head up by the chin. _So noble… but it's a foolish belief. Nothing worthwhile has ever been accomplished alone before. If you intend to uncover the sources of these forgotten memories, you're going to need help._

Sandy actually expected her to be excited about the prospects. Who wouldn't be? She might finally regain the true notion of who she was… But as it turned out, this girl was full of even more surprises than he'd first expected. She nodded politely, thanked him for the offer, and then declined.

"I'm not interested in regaining old memories. It's certainly an interesting concept, but I would much rather focus on getting rid of them once and for all, to make room for new memories. If that's alright with you, sir."

Sir? He blinked, pointing to his own rippling stomach.

She laughed. "Yes, you! I know it might sound funny but I've long-since given up all that twaddle. I'll admit, I was desperate to find out who I once was at the start of all this, but now I just want to live my life in the here and now, stop worrying about the past and start planning for my future."

_How…mature of you._

Meggie chuckled. "Is that so difficult to believe? That young spirits can be mature as well?"

_Not at all. I've met some very genuine young spirits in my time and you are certainly one of those. You're…sure you don't want my help in exploring these hidden memories?_

"Positive. But thanks for the offer. Like you said, that's Tooth's department. But I would like your help in another matter." Her eyes were gleaming again.

_Yes? Like what? I'm happy to help in any way I can._

She clasped both hands together, puckered her lips and asked, "Can I please have some of that wonderful sand stuff? I'm so sick of fighting off evil dreams and forgotten memories. On the good nights I can just blot it all out with void and nothingness, on the bad…"

_Say no more._ He reached into his pocket and drew out some dreamsand. There was a cup on the counter and he poured it inside, for her to use as her leisure. _I understand. And, forgive me, but maybe there is something I can help you with. _

"Oh? And what might that be?"

He grinned. _Well, there's a reason I was once known as the Dream Warrior. I can teach you to not only control them better, but also fight them off completely without barely lifting a finger. You're already an accomplished vivid dreamer, that much is evident by the décor of your dream._ _No ordinary dreamer could exercise such clear control over their backdrop and fight the monsters inside their head. _

Her already blushing cheeks grew darker. "Well…thank you. But what exactly are you talking about, little guy?"

Sandy stood, as regal and as kind as the soldier he had once been. _I'm going to teach you how to be a dream-walker. _The look on her face… dazed and mildly confused, but with a warm smile that spoke of being woken up after a sweet dream. And in that moment, he remembered why he became a guardian. It was to see things like that.

XXXXXXXX

While Meggie was jumping around the room, her hands grasped in Sandy's as she laughed and giggled, babbling on and on about training and the like, someone else was listening fearfully on the other side of the door. A young man, clad in the finest moonlight threads, his staff in hand, hovering just a touch above the ground in case his trembling caused it to knock against the ground.

_He's going to kill me… Big brother will have my head for screwing up this badly! _Mother too!_ Ooh bloody hell, mother is going to tear my innards out and use them to decorate the palace!_

It wasn't usual to find the spirit of safety quaking in his bare feet, lurking outside a room where he wasn't permitted. Normally he stayed away from the earth altogether, remaining locked away with his books and his chemistry sets in the lunar palace, away from any trouble. But when big brother had a job for him it was time to leave the books and strike out in the name Lunar.

Though, as he stood there, Nightlight was starting to become increasingly aware of how dangerous these missions were becoming. Not only was he breaking into Pitch's caverns, where there were numerous traps and protective measures to ensure his residents' own safety, but now he was manipulating one of Manny's own best friends and caretakers! What would mother and father say?!

_Calm down, _he told himself, looking away from the crack in the door from where he'd been watching the pair for some minutes. _Just calm down. There was nothing I could do! Brother only said that there needed to be time in between her being reborn and the rest of the Guardians finding out about her. Not how much time! _

That was a bullshit excuse and he knew it. But there wasn't much else he could do! He had messed up badly... no doubt there would be a message waiting for him when he got back. A summons, to discuss this little screw up. But, for now, all Nightlight could do was listen and pray. From the sound of it, Sandy was going to give Pitch an earful in the morning and her circle was getting a little bigger, but apart from that it didn't seem like that much was going on.

He breathed a sigh of relief, edging away from the door. Meggie was saying goodnight, and that meant he needed to be off. All was well. Relatively speaking.

The trip back up to the lunar palace was relatively simple. Nightlight had checked up on Pitch prior to leaving the caves, as instructed, and found him to be in semi-decent mental state. A little tired, but resting happily in a chair by the fire with a book in his lap. From there, he had hastened to the palace with his report.

Nightlight found Manny sitting in the parlor with the rest of the Pitchner family. This would have normally raised all sorts of warning flags, since Manny was known for obsessively monitoring his little projects and couldn't be forced out of the telescope room when new developments were occurring. And he no doubt would've been, if those developments hadn't been occurring underground and away from the eyes of the moon.

Kozmotis was the first one to spot him and waved, smiling. "Ah, Nightlight there you are! How did the field mission go?"

He crossed the room and came to stand before his brother, smiling nervously. "Hey, Kozmotis. Hey Archaline, big sis. Uh…how are you?"

Seraphina uncrossed her legs and stood, opening her arms for a hug which Nightlight gratefully accepted. Even when he was stressed to hell, a hug from mother nature made everything better. "Oh come now Nightlight, you just saw us last week! We all live here!" She laughed, pulling away and ruffling his hair. "And anyway, we want to hear about your mission."

"That's right," Manny interjected. "I'm interested to hear how tonight went. Is Sanderson still blissfully unaware of Meggie's existence?"

Cold sweat and terror began to seep from the palms of Nightlight's hands. "Um… not as such…" he stammered, shuffling his feet, looking anywhere but at his brother. "Actually he… well…"

"Just spit it out kiddo," Kozmotis encouraged.

"Well…" Nightlight took a deep breath. Now or never… "He just spent an hour talking with her! Jack knows too! He met her this afternoon after the angel dropped her off! Manny I'm so sorry! I swear there was nothing I could do!" It disgusted him to hear himself groveling like this but, realistically, it was his fault. His duty from the beginning had been to slow, if not outright keep completely a secret, the Guardians' knowledge of the girl. That had been his ONLY duty, and he'd botched it.

"Nightlight-"

He was going to yell. He was going to yell and be disappointed and Nightlight couldn't dare look him in the face. This was my one shot dammit! "Manny, you don't need to say a word! On my honor as a celestial, I'll do whatever it takes to fix this!"

"Nightlight please!"

"Nightlight, stop babbling and listen to him at least," Archaline interjected.

"No, I'm sorry miss but this was my screw-up and I need to take responsibility for it!" He finally raised his eyes to meet his brothers and found, to his utter shock, that the younger spirit was laughing! "Uh…Manny?"

The leader of the Guardians rose, still chuckling, crossed the space between them and raid a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Nightlight, it's ok." He soothed. "I don't blame you. Sandy is a resourceful spirit, he knew something was wrong and went to investigate. I don't hold it against him, or you."

"Y-you don't?"

The moonlit guardian cringed as Manny laughed. "It's not like we didn't know this was going to happen," he replied, shrugging. "To be honest, I needed to start preparing for the next step anyway."

"The…the next step?" Ugh, now my head hurts even more! Nightlight sank into the seat adjacent to Archaline, sighing with relief. "Well, at least I didn't ruin anything." He didn't pretend to understand Manny's crazy plans, especially when he was kept almost completely out of the loop on said crazy plans. All he knew was that Manny wasn't angry and he hadn't botched anything. Which was good enough for him.

Manny nodded, taking his own seat. This whole affair had aged him by several decades in as many months and it was a miracle he hadn't taken up drinking.

Well, not in great amount at any rate.

"This whole plan has been fraught with disaster from the beginning. At this point, I've decided to just go with it and let whatever happens happen. Our main concern is making sure Meggie is alright, and that she can handle what's going on. Once the Guardians started finding out it was only a matter of time before they all figured it out, told Pitch and he realizes that his memories are gone. Speaking of which, Kozmotis, have we made any progress on figuring out the reversal of the potion?"

Kozmotis cleared his throat. "Ahem. Actually yes, we have. It was a simple memoriam potion, designed to only attack memories pertaining to a specific person or event. Simple, but effective. Its effects last for roughly five years, then the potion leaves the system."

"Five years?!" Manny yelled, slamming a fist down on the arm of the table. _That's too long! _Too long to wait, anything could happen in between now and then!

"Damn, that's one persistent potion." Nightlight muttered. "And all we can do is wait?"

"Unfortunately yes. And Lunar, don't start stressing." He added, looking pointedly at Manny who was struggling to keep his composure. "She is surrounded by friends and family that love her. If she doesn't realize what's wrong, then we have nothing to worry about. Alright?"

Manny nodded wearily. "I know..." He replied, gazing out into the distance, his thoughts dancing like written words across his face. Fears and worry, plain as pimples. "But this kills me! The guardians. Pitch. Jack. They're all right about me. They say I don't help when I'm needed and it's true. Now I can't help but I want to and it leave me with this cold, emptiness inside..." his hand migrated up to his chest where a celestial heart beat steady and strong. "Humans are such remarkable creatures for enduring all this..."

"Indeed they are."

Startled, the warriors leaped to their feet. Emerald vines erupted from the tiled floor, ready to attack at their mistress's command and a golden scythe appeared in Kozmotis's hand, ready to cleave his enemy in two. Nightlight raised his staff. Even Archaline unsheathed a pair of twin daggers she'd had hidden in her skirts. The only one who didn't jump to attack was Manny. He just sat there, smirking while the others looked at the intruder, very much confused.

He was young, about twenty years or so. Shining black hair hung in shoulder-length waves, framing handsome, featured etched in bronze skin. Wearing a white tunic and a blue cloak, speckled with stars, he looked more like something out of a fairytale than any of the others did.

"Um… Manny? Who the heck is this?" Kozmotis asked after a moment of silence, gazing at the youth.

Manny stood, facing the newcomer. "Micha, it's been a long time old friend." He extended a hand which the other man clasped. "What brings you up here? Oh, and you can lower your weapons everyone, this is a friend."

They did as he asked. Both the scythe and the vines vanished and everybody sat down. "Actually I came here on business. It has come to my attention that my sister had become friends with the new spirit you're spending so much time and effort on. I wanted to ask you some questions about her."

"Your sister?" The moon spirit was momentarily stumped. Then he remembered the report of yesterday and could've smacked himself. "Oh yes I remember, the angel."

"She's not an angel," Micha pointed out testily. "She just has wings."

"Right." Manny sat down and invited the others to do the same. Kozmotis was still watching Micha warily, but the others seemed at ease. Seraphina was even back to her former lounging position on the couch, listening to their conversation. "You know, of all the spirits she could've run into, all the ones she could've befriended, I really didn't expect it to be that one."

"The girl has an air for the forgotten." Micha replied, elegantly taking a seat across from Manny. "She seems to radiate understanding and compassion. When she's not an angry green rage-monster."

"Well well, you seem to know an awful lot about her. What else could you want to know about her? And better yet, why don't you just ask her yourself? She could probably use another spirit friend, especially one as old as you."

"Hey!"

Nightlight chuckled. "He's got you there, Micha." Now he remembered! The child that took up the mantle of one of the greatest wizards of the age, one of the second-generation spirits. Son of Horus and Isis. Micha, the lord of time.

Micha smiled. "Maybe so. But I can't go running off to her just yet. I need to hear it from you, first."

"Like I said, what do you want to know?"

The time master glanced around at the assembled spirits, as if debating on something. "Maybe we should go talk somewhere more private." He suggested quietly, clearly not trying to offend anybody.

It was a sweet gesture, but an unnecessary one. "Anything you need to ask can be asked here, Micha."

"Well, if you insist. I want to know just how powerful she is."

Manny shrugged. "Even I don't know that yet. The only one who knows that is her soul-mother, and we can't go bothering her for something Meggie will just find out later."

"Interesting. So, how long will it take for her to realize her full power?"

Now Manny was starting to look suspicious. "You're a lord of time, you should know this stuff. Why are you asking me?"

"Just like getting my facts straight. Is there even a time limit to the growth of spiritual ability?" He pressed but Manny wasn't having any of it.

"Oh no, my turn to ask a question. I want to know what you thought you were doing, putting that book right out in the open for her to find!"

"Wait, book?" Kozmotis interjected. "What book?"

A small half-smile slipped across Micha's face. "A little coming-of-age present." He said, by way of an explanation for Kozmotis. "I thought it would make things more interesting for her and help speed things along. Manny isn't the only one who has stakes riding on this one."

Now Seraphina was interested. She leaned in and asked, "And just what do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing. Think nothing of it." He waved her off before turning back to Manny. Seraphina went to interject again, but a warning look from Kozmotis silenced her. "So, the answers to my question?"

They went back and forth for a good long while, exchanging questions and answers that puzzled both the spirits listening and the recipients. After a while, Archaline and Kozmotis got tired and went to bed. Seraphina excused herself with the shoddy excuse of needing to return home to check on her home, leaving the two spirits finally alone.

"Well, now that they're out of the way,"

"Lets get down to business." Manny agreed, dropping all facade. "Why are you _really_ here?"

Micha did the same. "I'm here because I want to know something- no, I _need_ to know something. And I need you to answer me truthfully. This could mean life or death for her, and I don't know about you but I'm interested in keeping her around for a bit longer."

Manny tried not to look impressed with his forwardness. "Alright. Shoot." Something was going on here, something interesting. Micha sounded very serious but he said it with a smile on his face. Most curious.

Micha leaned in, propping his elbows up on his knees, his attention fully devoted to his question. "Do you know her clothing sizes?"


End file.
